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 Thailand and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sällskapet to the dance 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick May,
Jerry Gold Smith,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare,
The Names,
Arthur Verocai,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Saccharine Trust,
Vainqueur,
The Detroit Cobras,
Anakelly,
Moebius,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Swell Maps,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Yellowson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Q65,
Absolute Body Control,
Zero Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Durutti Column,
Tomorrow,
Hardrive,
Marmalade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
L. Decosne,
Unwound,
Neu!,
Chrome,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
Popol Vuh,
Pantaleimon,
Sandy B,
Eddi Front,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Newcleus,
Circle Jerks,
R.M.O.,
The Electric Prunes,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Public Enemy,
Rites of Spring,
Sonic Youth,
Soulsonic Force,
New Age Steppers,
Spoonie Gee,
Rotary Connection,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.