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 Angola and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Warsaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Shuggie Otis,
The Move,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
The Remains,
Scion,
Brothers Johnson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Amazonics,
Graham Central Station,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Godley & Creme,
Pole,
Lindisfarne,
The Gap Band,
Deepchord,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
The Smoke,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Bush Tetras,
Judy Mowatt,
Cymande,
Bobby Byrd,
Television Personalities,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
Desert Stars,
Nils Olav,
Royal Trux,
The Motions,
Freddie Wadling,
Spoonie Gee,
Skriet,
Radio Birdman,
In Retrospect,
Wasted Youth,
Carl Craig,
The American Breed,
Schoolly D,
The Fugs,
Sugar Minott,
Agent Orange,
Quadrant,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wally Richardson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Altered Images,
Eli Mardock,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.