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 Sudan and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Invisible to the electroclash 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Wolf Eyes,
Reagan Youth,
Sister Nancy,
Wasted Youth,
Talk Talk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moss Icon,
The Skatalites,
Warren Ellis,
Gabor Szabo,
Sam Rivers,
The Searchers,
Man Parrish,
the Sonics,
The Golliwogs,
Bill Wells,
Parry Music,
Gang of Four,
Section 25,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Nation of Ulysses,
F. McDonald,
Eden Ahbez,
Easy Going,
Neil Young,
Slave,
Public Enemy,
Pierre Henry,
The Velvet Underground,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gil Scott Heron,
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
L. Decosne,
U.S. Maple,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gong,
Procol Harum,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smoke,
Dave Gahan,
David Axelrod,
Alphaville,
Eric Dolphy,
John Holt,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arthur Verocai,
DNA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lower 48,
Organ,
The Standells,
LL Cool J,
Derrick May,
Q and Not U,
Fatback Band,
The Cure,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.