Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Belarus and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eddi Front to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Adolescents,
Tim Buckley,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ohio Players,
Blancmange,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Juan Atkins,
MC5,
The Seeds,
Duran Duran,
Quando Quango,
Agitation Free,
Technova,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
The Evens,
Swans,
Pussy Galore,
The Neon Judgement,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lower 48,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Standells,
Grauzone,
Minnie Riperton,
Eden Ahbez,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T.S.O.L.,
The Music Machine,
Blake Baxter,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Durutti Column,
Radiohead,
Sound Behaviour,
The Star Department,
Ituana,
Man Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Outsiders,
Excepter,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Section 25,
Black Flag,
Porter Ricks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Howard Jones,
Au Pairs,
UT,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
The Modern Lovers,
Trumans Water,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jandek,
Derrick May,
The Techniques,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.