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 Seychelles and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Brass Construction to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radio Birdman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
DNA,
Groovy Waters,
Heaven 17,
Alison Limerick,
Whodini,
Terry Callier,
The Fortunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
La Düsseldorf,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Agitation Free,
Masters at Work,
Hot Snakes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Pus,
Eric Dolphy,
Franke,
The Techniques,
Mad Mike,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Arthur Verocai,
X-101,
K-Klass,
Essential Logic,
Idris Muhammad,
The Cowsills,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Make Up,
Hasil Adkins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Chris Corsano,
Mandrill,
Rotary Connection,
Reagan Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
The Human League,
Lucky Dragons,
Goldenarms,
Piero Umiliani,
Sly & The Family Stone,
KRS-One,
David Bowie,
ABC,
Robert Hood,
Soft Cell,
Wire,
Lindisfarne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
Bronski Beat,
Juan Atkins,
The Victims,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Von Mondo,
Dark Day,
Magma,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.