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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kerrie Biddell to the rap 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
The Cowsills,
Gang Starr,
Fela Kuti,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eurythmics,
PIL,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Litter,
Tears for Fears,
Boz Scaggs,
Supertramp,
Cybotron,
Hashim,
Silicon Teens,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Divine Comedy,
Ohio Players,
Sex Pistols,
Bill Near,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
Marmalade,
Q65,
Eric Dolphy,
The Golliwogs,
Sällskapet,
Lucky Dragons,
Schoolly D,
Bush Tetras,
Con Funk Shun,
The Modern Lovers,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rakim,
Nas,
The Zeros,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Heaven 17,
Minny Pops,
The Doors,
The Dead C,
Groovy Waters,
Black Flag,
Laurel Aitken,
Agent Orange,
Gang Gang Dance,
Erasure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Letta Mbulu,
Essential Logic,
Deepchord,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swans,
Gang of Four,
Cecil Taylor,
The Music Machine,
Howard Jones,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.