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 Cape Verde and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
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 marimba 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 Motions to the funk 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
The Last Poets,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Howard Jones,
Flash Fearless,
Kaleidoscope,
Warsaw,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Ossler,
Theoretical Girls,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Angels of Light,
Public Enemy,
Ituana,
The Gun Club,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Victims,
Supertramp,
Sparks,
Hardrive,
Quando Quango,
Brothers Johnson,
Yellowson,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
The Sonics,
Organ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Symarip,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fluxion,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacob Miller,
Swell Maps,
Mission of Burma,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
kango's stein massive,
Radiohead,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Rakim,
David McCallum,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Byron Stingily,
Pagans,
Sight & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Blancmange,
Spandau Ballet,
Fad Gadget,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
U.S. Maple,
Arcadia,
Altered Images,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dual Sessions,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.