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 Algeria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dorothy Ashby to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skaos,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Matthew Halsall,
The Misunderstood,
Sällskapet,
Maurizio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Inner City,
the Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
The American Breed,
Glambeats Corp.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cecil Taylor,
Lakeside,
Neil Young,
Radio Birdman,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sandy B,
The Electric Prunes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thompson Twins,
Robert Görl,
The Cure,
Panda Bear,
Rekid,
The Gories,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
Bauhaus,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül,
The Last Poets,
Minutemen,
Eric Copeland,
Marmalade,
Barry Ungar,
Lucky Dragons,
Agent Orange,
Theoretical Girls,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Livin' Joy,
Little Man,
David Bowie,
Spoonie Gee,
Aloha Tigers,
Qualms,
Niagra,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.