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 Kazakhstan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Average White Band to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Section 25,
The Slackers,
Zero Boys,
World's Most,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sugar Minott,
Cymande,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Byrd,
The Invisible,
OOIOO,
Sixth Finger,
Wasted Youth,
David Bowie,
Ultra Naté,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxette,
Nik Kershaw,
Supertramp,
Lalann,
L. Decosne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Outsiders,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
Brand Nubian,
Fugazi,
Lightning Bolt,
These Immortal Souls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alton Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
10cc,
Television,
Peter and Kerry,
T.S.O.L.,
The Residents,
Quando Quango,
The Moody Blues,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
Blossom Toes,
Basic Channel,
Vainqueur,
Barry Ungar,
Angry Samoans,
Lakeside,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grauzone,
Connie Case,
Fela Kuti,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.