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 Honduras and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 The Velvet Underground to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Cybotron,
The Gories,
Visage,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Gastr Del Sol,
Icehouse,
The Happenings,
Eve St. Jones,
Darondo,
Cecil Taylor,
Deakin,
Black Bananas,
Aloha Tigers,
Toni Rubio,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
Soul II Soul,
JFA,
The Seeds,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tommy Roe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Zeros,
Subhumans,
One Last Wish,
Ronan,
Cluster,
Junior Murvin,
Drexciya,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
Amon Düül,
DJ Sneak,
Nirvana,
Brand Nubian,
Glenn Branca,
The Count Five,
the Normal,
Franke,
Soft Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Bootsy Collins,
the Sonics,
Section 25,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Cowsills,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Finger,
ABBA,
Eric Dolphy,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
FM Einheit,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
Erykah Badu,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.