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 Iran and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 The Music Machine to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Sight & Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
Babytalk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Connie Case,
Janne Schatter,
Infiniti,
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mission of Burma,
June Days,
Althea and Donna,
The Five Americans,
Eden Ahbez,
Erasure,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Josef K,
Bill Near,
Jandek,
Matthew Bourne,
Public Enemy,
Dawn Penn,
John Lydon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Flag,
Q65,
Avey Tare,
H. Thieme,
Au Pairs,
Wire,
Franke,
Zero Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Vainqueur,
Rapeman,
Peter & Gordon,
Hot Snakes,
Harry Pussy,
CMW,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
Nirvana,
Rod Modell,
Joyce Sims,
the Association,
Cecil Taylor,
Brothers Johnson,
Fad Gadget,
Shoche,
Funky Four + One,
Dark Day,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.