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 Solomon Islands and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Gap Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics 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?
Franke,
Bobby Byrd,
Absolute Body Control,
Bob Dylan,
Das Ding,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
the Sonics,
The Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Music Machine,
Motorama,
Bill Wells,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neu!,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
X-102,
Carl Craig,
Dawn Penn,
Wally Richardson,
FM Einheit,
Sandy B,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mojo Men,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Grass Roots,
Kerri Chandler,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
Hasil Adkins,
The Count Five,
Dennis Brown,
Simply Red,
Aural Exciters,
Pere Ubu,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Susan Cadogan,
Cal Tjader,
The Saints,
Barbara Tucker,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Dual Sessions,
Ornette Coleman,
Average White Band,
Sam Rivers,
Dave Gahan,
The Blues Magoos,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Joe Smooth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Japan,
John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Quantec,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.