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 Belgium and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Neil Young to the punk 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Angels of Light,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Monks,
Motorama,
48th St. Collective,
Royal Trux,
Cecil Taylor,
Lower 48,
LL Cool J,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlback,
Davy DMX,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
H. Thieme,
Piero Umiliani,
The Index,
Archie Shepp,
The Invisible,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bobby Sherman,
Scott Walker,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jawbox,
Peter and Kerry,
UT,
The Five Americans,
Magma,
The Victims,
Moss Icon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Buckinghams,
Suicide,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Echospace,
David Axelrod,
Technova,
The Sound,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Prunes,
The Cramps,
The Grass Roots,
The Doors,
X-101,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pulsallama,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
The Searchers,
Sight & Sound,
KRS-One,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.