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 Vietnam and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Motorama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fear,
Alphaville,
Gong,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Kool Moe Dee,
F. McDonald,
Susan Cadogan,
Bob Dylan,
Chris & Cosey,
the Swans,
Yaz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
Marmalade,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fortunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
In Retrospect,
The Mojo Men,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ituana,
Tears for Fears,
Nirvana,
Magazine,
Freddie Wadling,
The Remains,
AZ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tom Boy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
kango's stein massive,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Banda Bassotti,
Blancmange,
Negative Approach,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Talk Talk,
Rekid,
the Normal,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
The Leaves,
Robert Hood,
The Mummies,
Popol Vuh,
The Gun Club,
Vainqueur,
Youth Brigade,
Junior Murvin,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel, Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel.
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.