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 Chad and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Circle Jerks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Lungfish,
The Cowsills,
Gong,
Sparks,
Roger Hodgson,
Deakin,
Index,
Mark Hollis,
Make Up,
Television Personalities,
Cymande,
Siglo XX,
Stetsasonic,
Pagans,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
The Fugs,
DJ Style,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Trumans Water,
The J.B.'s,
The Music Machine,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
Frankie Knuckles,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Maurizio,
The Human League,
Deepchord,
The Black Dice,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alton Ellis,
John Holt,
Archie Shepp,
Supertramp,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
Duran Duran,
The Evens,
The Index,
Quando Quango,
Sun Ra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Glambeats Corp.,
a-ha,
The Fall,
Wasted Youth,
OOIOO,
Nirvana,
Tubeway Army,
Rekid,
Mantronix,
Jandek,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.