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 Micronesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Junior Murvin to the rock 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Martian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scan 7,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Newcleus,
Alison Limerick,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stiv Bators,
Pantaleimon,
Excepter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delta 5,
Vladislav Delay,
New York Dolls,
Minor Threat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ronnie Foster,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cybotron,
The Pop Group,
Kas Product,
Tears for Fears,
Rites of Spring,
Pole,
Interpol,
Pierre Henry,
Derrick Morgan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
Slave,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Derrick May,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jerry's Kids,
DNA,
The Doors,
Jacques Brel,
Skarface,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Görl,
Pere Ubu,
Nas,
Khruangbin,
Swans,
The Birthday Party,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
Marine Girls,
Moss Icon,
Graham Central Station,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sugar Minott,
The Smoke,
Visage,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.