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 Azerbaijan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Eve St. Jones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Neil Young,
Dave Gahan,
Quantec,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultravox,
ABBA,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
Accadde A,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxy Music,
Smog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Soulsonic Force,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Happenings,
Pylon,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
MDC,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
Spandau Ballet,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The United States of America,
Mission of Burma,
Hot Snakes,
Bush Tetras,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kaleidoscope,
the Association,
ABC,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Piero Umiliani,
Morten Harket,
Das Ding,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Joensuu 1685,
Junior Murvin,
Marmalade,
Lower 48,
Gichy Dan,
Peter & Gordon,
Rites of Spring,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.