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 Azerbaijan and from Madrid.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the theremin 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 Steve Hackett to the crunk 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Vainqueur,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pole,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Selecter,
Moss Icon,
Interpol,
Nico,
ABC,
Absolute Body Control,
Rakim,
Camberwell Now,
Donald Byrd,
Oneida,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
The American Breed,
The Electric Prunes,
Y Pants,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Young Marble Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Ossler,
Q65,
The Real Kids,
Sonic Youth,
Goldenarms,
Arab on Radar,
Terry Callier,
The Monks,
The Move,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nick Fraelich,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Carl Craig,
Deakin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül,
Johnny Clarke,
KRS-One,
The Five Americans,
The Monochrome Set,
Swell Maps,
Fluxion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Grass Roots,
Morten Harket,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Knickerbockers,
the Swans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Holt,
Laurel Aitken,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.