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 Philippines and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Flamin' Groovies to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Excepter,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Lakeside,
The Seeds,
UT,
Eric Copeland,
B.T. Express,
Unwound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Trumans Water,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Marmalade,
Derrick May,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
The Busters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arthur Verocai,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ludus,
Kenny Larkin,
Minnie Riperton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Erasure,
Glenn Branca,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Half Japanese,
Bronski Beat,
Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pussy Galore,
The Young Rascals,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Procol Harum,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
Stetsasonic,
Derrick Morgan,
Swell Maps,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Animal Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Amon Düül,
The Slits,
Lalann,
Boredoms,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.