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 San Marino and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lightning Bolt to the punk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
The Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Jesper Dahlback,
Warren Ellis,
The Angels of Light,
Bronski Beat,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Bill Near,
The Seeds,
The Move,
The United States of America,
David McCallum,
Audionom,
Thompson Twins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Massinfluence,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
K-Klass,
David Axelrod,
DJ Sneak,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
FM Einheit,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Livin' Joy,
Agitation Free,
Basic Channel,
Whodini,
Hoover,
a-ha,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Divine Comedy,
June of 44,
Silicon Teens,
Matthew Halsall,
JFA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camouflage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
Maurizio,
Gang of Four,
Unrelated Segments,
Theoretical Girls,
Harpers Bizarre,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tears for Fears,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ituana,
Minnie Riperton,
Franke,
Cymande,
Henry Cow,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.