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 Nauru and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Golliwogs,
LL Cool J,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Malaria!,
Tubeway Army,
The Real Kids,
Chris & Cosey,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quantec,
Davy DMX,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears,
Index,
Angry Samoans,
KRS-One,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Rufus Thomas,
Camouflage,
John Foxx,
Skarface,
48th St. Collective,
Mr. Review,
Barry Ungar,
Echospace,
L. Decosne,
Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
X-101,
Cluster,
Depeche Mode,
Intrusion,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
The Cowsills,
The Stooges,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dual Sessions,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boredoms,
Robert Görl,
Althea and Donna,
Robert Wyatt,
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
Ossler,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.