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 Paraguay and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Gerry Rafferty to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Camberwell Now,
The Alarm Clocks,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blackbyrds,
Reagan Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Lydon,
Audionom,
Alison Limerick,
David McCallum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
Donald Byrd,
Matthew Bourne,
The Index,
The Fugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Rosa Yemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Moss Icon,
Rekid,
Dennis Brown,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
The Buckinghams,
U.S. Maple,
Model 500,
Lyres,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Eddi Front,
Radio Birdman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Brand Nubian,
The Golliwogs,
Stiv Bators,
Albert Ayler,
The Monochrome Set,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
Electric Prunes,
Harry Pussy,
The Tremeloes,
The Smoke,
Quando Quango,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
Lebanon Hanover,
Franke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.