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 Benin and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Donald Fagen 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 Das Ding to the disco 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Intrusion,
Swans,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton,
The United States of America,
The Five Americans,
Gichy Dan,
PIL,
The Monks,
The Pop Group,
JFA,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Model 500,
The Mojo Men,
Lyres,
Ice-T,
Alice Coltrane,
Bill Near,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
David McCallum,
Delta 5,
Bad Manners,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiopuhelimet,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Standells,
Don Cherry,
Excepter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Infiniti,
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
Howard Jones,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Animal Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
Unwound,
Marc Almond,
Popol Vuh,
David Axelrod,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
DJ Sneak,
The Zeros,
Wire,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wasted Youth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.