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 Korea South and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Faraquet to the techno 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Cameo,
The Stooges,
The Offenders,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
Fad Gadget,
Bronski Beat,
Little Man,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Halsall,
Thompson Twins,
The Searchers,
Hardrive,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grauzone,
Stereo Dub,
Hot Snakes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Walker Brothers,
Metal Thangz,
The Moody Blues,
R.M.O.,
Chris & Cosey,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alice Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Crooked Eye,
The Toasters,
Carl Craig,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
Alphaville,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Whodini,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Flash Fearless,
Donald Byrd,
Bill Wells,
The Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aural Exciters,
Cheater Slicks,
Echospace,
Neil Young,
Deakin,
Flipper,
The New Christs,
Agent Orange,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.