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 Qatar and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 rhodes 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
The Five Americans,
Dawn Penn,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Little Man,
Section 25,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonic Youth,
Davy DMX,
Electric Prunes,
Oneida,
Sun Ra,
Fat Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
Pantaleimon,
Neil Young,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Spandau Ballet,
Ossler,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dead Boys,
Darondo,
Stetsasonic,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
Rufus Thomas,
Kayak,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Wings,
The Barracudas,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter & Gordon,
Cameo,
Bill Wells,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.