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 Philippines and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
The American Breed,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Idris Muhammad,
Fatback Band,
Newcleus,
Stiv Bators,
Procol Harum,
E-Dancer,
Royal Trux,
Negative Approach,
Scan 7,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ituana,
The Flesh Eaters,
Chris & Cosey,
Pere Ubu,
Supertramp,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Near,
Kenny Larkin,
Qualms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Loose Ends,
Wire,
Electric Prunes,
Q and Not U,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Monks,
Stetsasonic,
Kaleidoscope,
Oneida,
Lightning Bolt,
Skriet,
Scrapy,
Harmonia,
The Gap Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
Joe Smooth,
Malaria!,
Gabor Szabo,
John Holt,
Nico,
Mission of Burma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
Ten City,
Thompson Twins,
The Busters,
Monolake,
Babytalk,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeff Lynne,
Yaz,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.