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 Botswana and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 snare 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Urselle,
Faraquet,
Carl Craig,
Au Pairs,
Echospace,
Fear,
Peter & Gordon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jeff Lynne,
Jawbox,
Ronnie Foster,
Fad Gadget,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thee Headcoats,
Rekid,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crash Course in Science,
Max Romeo,
Moebius,
B.T. Express,
The American Breed,
The Angels of Light,
The Velvet Underground,
Agitation Free,
PIL,
The Misunderstood,
Neu!,
Juan Atkins,
Hardrive,
Yaz,
Minor Threat,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Amon Düül,
Tomorrow,
This Heat,
Dark Day,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
X-Ray Spex,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Traffic Nightmare,
Infiniti,
The Star Department,
New Order,
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Gang Dance,
Siglo XX,
Pierre Henry,
Don Cherry,
CMW,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.