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 Romania and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Monochrome Set to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Unrelated Segments,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
The Stooges,
Ornette Coleman,
CMW,
EPMD,
Fela Kuti,
Boz Scaggs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
48th St. Collective,
Wolf Eyes,
Warsaw,
The Pretty Things,
La Düsseldorf,
Eden Ahbez,
Electric Prunes,
Country Teasers,
The Gories,
China Crisis,
Circle Jerks,
Icehouse,
The Black Dice,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Slits,
Kenny Larkin,
Parry Music,
Faust,
Ponytail,
The Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fatback Band,
Crime,
Roxette,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Velvet Underground,
Grey Daturas,
James White and The Blacks,
MDC,
Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Holt,
Harmonia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
The Slackers,
Depeche Mode,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Man Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Arcadia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Newcleus,
Bill Wells,
The Victims,
Popol Vuh,
Hot Snakes,
The Saints,
Juan Atkins,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.