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 Equatorial Guinea and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 R.M.O. to the dance 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
a-ha,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry,
Spoonie Gee,
Interpol,
Mandrill,
Organ,
Royal Trux,
Whodini,
MC5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Standells,
The Evens,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Sex Pistols,
Visage,
DNA,
The Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Oblivians,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Marmalade,
Flash Fearless,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
The Gladiators,
Crash Course in Science,
The Durutti Column,
The Fuzztones,
Marine Girls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang Gang Dance,
10cc,
Blake Baxter,
The Beau Brummels,
Dual Sessions,
Rekid,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
Man Parrish,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Human League,
Darondo,
Guru Guru,
Newcleus,
The Victims,
The Toasters,
Drexciya,
The Busters,
Ohio Players,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Country Teasers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.