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 Greece and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 John Cale 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Nas,
Porter Ricks,
U.S. Maple,
Bang On A Can,
The Names,
Parry Music,
The Victims,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
Interpol,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
This Heat,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Amon Düül,
The Martian,
Albert Ayler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stiv Bators,
Yellowson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gichy Dan,
Roxette,
The Human League,
Janne Schatter,
Section 25,
Marvin Gaye,
Swans,
The Smoke,
The Raincoats,
Cal Tjader,
Nico,
Sonic Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Foxx,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arcadia,
The Searchers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scratch Acid,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Saints,
Guru Guru,
KRS-One,
Index,
Babytalk,
Pantaleimon,
Visage,
The Busters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Toni Rubio,
Harmonia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scion,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Green,
Audionom,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.