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 Liberia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Deakin to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lalann,
Basic Channel,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soul II Soul,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Urselle,
Kaleidoscope,
Scott Walker,
Max Romeo,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Buckinghams,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Glenn Branca,
A Certain Ratio,
Todd Terry,
Michelle Simonal,
H. Thieme,
Metal Thangz,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
PIL,
Oneida,
Alphaville,
Letta Mbulu,
Adolescents,
U.S. Maple,
The Real Kids,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joy Division,
Skaos,
Hardrive,
Yusef Lateef,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young,
The Pretty Things,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arcadia,
Shuggie Otis,
Johnny Osbourne,
Terry Callier,
The Cure,
Minnie Riperton,
Oblivians,
Chrome,
Eric Dolphy,
Little Man,
Minny Pops,
Bob Dylan,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Red Krayola,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.