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 Colombia and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
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 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Tears for Fears to the funk 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Standells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Goldenarms,
Smog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
D'Angelo,
Tres Demented,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scientists,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cowsills,
Jeff Lynne,
Dennis Brown,
Kool Moe Dee,
B.T. Express,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Pus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joe Smooth,
Vainqueur,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
Marmalade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
The Pop Group,
The J.B.'s,
The Gories,
Ultra Naté,
The Count Five,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ten City,
Nation of Ulysses,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
Groovy Waters,
The Gun Club,
The Remains,
the Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Con Funk Shun,
Cymande,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Magazine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Monks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Teasers,
Josef K,
The Smoke,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.