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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 techno 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Spoonie Gee,
Public Image Ltd.,
Charles Mingus,
New York Dolls,
Letta Mbulu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fortunes,
Zapp,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Sixth Finger,
Malaria!,
Con Funk Shun,
Isaac Hayes,
La Düsseldorf,
the Association,
Pantytec,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Alison Limerick,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Chrome,
The Velvet Underground,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
MC5,
Easy Going,
The Cramps,
The Raincoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Absolute Body Control,
Tres Demented,
Bill Wells,
Gang Starr,
Country Teasers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Five Americans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tubeway Army,
Josef K,
Shoche,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moby Grape,
Echospace,
Zero Boys,
Scrapy,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Trojans,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.