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 Egypt and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Panda Bear to the funk 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
10cc,
Tears for Fears,
Thee Headcoats,
Excepter,
The Happenings,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
Negative Approach,
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sonic Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marine Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
Brothers Johnson,
Erykah Badu,
Marvin Gaye,
Rod Modell,
Crooked Eye,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Smiths,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gang Green,
Bush Tetras,
The Knickerbockers,
Main Source,
the Sonics,
The Moleskins,
The Gun Club,
Amazonics,
The Residents,
Livin' Joy,
Technova,
Chris Corsano,
Cybotron,
Anakelly,
Don Cherry,
Sun Ra,
Pole,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Hardrive,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Moon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Black Dice,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drexciya,
The Vogues,
Fela Kuti,
Warren Ellis,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.