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 Singapore and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gap Band 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
Mars,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
The Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Depeche Mode,
Eden Ahbez,
Lyres,
the Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
Derrick Morgan,
Althea and Donna,
The Standells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fortunes,
the Normal,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Maleditus Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Brass Construction,
Wire,
Ice-T,
Fear,
Fluxion,
The Fire Engines,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gichy Dan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
Hashim,
The Searchers,
The Sound,
the Association,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Easy Going,
Franke,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cal Tjader,
Moby Grape,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Alice Coltrane,
The Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Blancmange,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gong,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Laurel Aitken,
the Swans,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.