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 Romania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare 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 Tropical Tobacco 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Jesper Dahlback,
Accadde A,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
Roxette,
Vainqueur,
The Litter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Grauzone,
Roy Ayers,
Joyce Sims,
Steve Hackett,
Radiohead,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
Harry Pussy,
Blake Baxter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anakelly,
Sonny Sharrock,
Q65,
The Martian,
The Five Americans,
Don Cherry,
Supertramp,
Bill Near,
UT,
The Zeros,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Angels of Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
Ludus,
Rakim,
Magma,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
New Order,
Youth Brigade,
Sun City Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bush Tetras,
Infiniti,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
The Gories,
U.S. Maple,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Sugar Minott,
The Residents,
Brick,
Avey Tare,
One Last Wish,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
Peter & Gordon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.