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 Netherlands and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro 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 Spitz.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Christie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Hoover,
The Fortunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
MC5,
a-ha,
Con Funk Shun,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Spoonie Gee,
the Human League,
Jerry's Kids,
Q and Not U,
The Selecter,
Dual Sessions,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Zeros,
Japan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Finger,
Niagra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
T.S.O.L.,
Pantytec,
Mission of Burma,
The Knickerbockers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joyce Sims,
Chrome,
The Slits,
Danielle Patucci,
Moebius,
Slave,
Popol Vuh,
The Remains,
Lungfish,
Pole,
The Smiths,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lindisfarne,
Aloha Tigers,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Matthew Halsall,
Wasted Youth,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
R.M.O.,
ABC,
Audionom,
David McCallum,
Eli Mardock,
DNA,
Malaria!,
Skriet,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Inner City,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.