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 Tonga and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Agent Orange to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
MDC,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Massinfluence,
David McCallum,
Man Parrish,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Faraquet,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
Roy Ayers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Starr,
Joensuu 1685,
Judy Mowatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Hill,
Wire,
Dawn Penn,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
New Age Steppers,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Cal Tjader,
Sällskapet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bill Near,
Marvin Gaye,
Crash Course in Science,
The Slackers,
Subhumans,
Tom Boy,
Suburban Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
The Pretty Things,
Buzzcocks,
Lindisfarne,
T.S.O.L.,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alphaville,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tears for Fears,
Rapeman,
Henry Cow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.