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 Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Tom Boy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Essential Logic,
Erykah Badu,
Easy Going,
The Beau Brummels,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
MC5,
Procol Harum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Graham Central Station,
The Fugs,
Altered Images,
Youth Brigade,
Panda Bear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wire,
DJ Sneak,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
The Sound,
Darondo,
The Cowsills,
The J.B.'s,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Underground Resistance,
Deadbeat,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tom Boy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Godley & Creme,
The Wake,
World's Most,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
The Blues Magoos,
Subhumans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Blake Baxter,
Pantaleimon,
Slick Rick,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Anakelly,
Glenn Branca,
Grey Daturas,
Peter and Kerry,
Thompson Twins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Q and Not U,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.