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 Latvia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Wings to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Main Source,
Agent Orange,
The Move,
The Last Poets,
The Gap Band,
Roy Ayers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Velvet Underground,
The Grass Roots,
The Human League,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Neu!,
Index,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Au Pairs,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
PIL,
Nico,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
David Axelrod,
John Lydon,
Eurythmics,
The Zeros,
Saccharine Trust,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scan 7,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Silicon Teens,
Bill Near,
Fela Kuti,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kayak,
The Associates,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Halsall,
Mark Hollis,
Althea and Donna,
Black Pus,
Black Moon,
Charles Mingus,
Max Romeo,
Can,
Scratch Acid,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Wolf Eyes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quadrant,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.