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 Nigeria 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Public Image Ltd. to the rap 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Drexciya,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
Silicon Teens,
The New Christs,
The Toasters,
Technova,
Jawbox,
Symarip,
The Techniques,
Babytalk,
Faraquet,
Max Romeo,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
Lightning Bolt,
The Invisible,
The Durutti Column,
Monks,
the Normal,
X-101,
The Fortunes,
Jerry's Kids,
Ludus,
Fad Gadget,
Vainqueur,
Suburban Knight,
The Black Dice,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swell Maps,
Model 500,
The Skatalites,
Ten City,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Josef K,
Funkadelic,
Boredoms,
Khruangbin,
Rosa Yemen,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Faust,
Stereo Dub,
Harry Pussy,
Franke,
Supertramp,
Vladislav Delay,
John Lydon,
Eurythmics,
The Tremeloes,
Gang of Four,
Laurel Aitken,
The Red Krayola,
D'Angelo,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Mojo Men,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.