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 East Timor and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Moebius to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Althea and Donna tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jerry's Kids,
Drexciya,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
kango's stein massive,
The Index,
Visage,
Graham Central Station,
Fat Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Mandrill,
Sandy B,
The American Breed,
Rotary Connection,
Blossom Toes,
Fear,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
Amon Düül II,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
the Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Faraquet,
Ituana,
The Electric Prunes,
Bush Tetras,
Pharoah Sanders,
Harmonia,
The Evens,
Cybotron,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
World's Most,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
DNA,
Godley & Creme,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Eve St. Jones,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Iggy Pop,
Au Pairs,
The Black Dice,
Index,
Clear Light,
The Gap Band,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Scratch Acid,
The Star Department,
the Slits,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.