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 Cameroon and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer 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 Matthew Bourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Funkadelic,
B.T. Express,
Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hardrive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Index,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Last Poets,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mandrill,
Avey Tare,
Lower 48,
Eurythmics,
Slick Rick,
Minor Threat,
Jerry's Kids,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Lebanon Hanover,
Porter Ricks,
Pagans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Electric Prunes,
Agitation Free,
The Doors,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalann,
Bush Tetras,
Todd Terry,
Dawn Penn,
The Golliwogs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Don Cherry,
Theoretical Girls,
Ten City,
Jeff Lynne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Erykah Badu,
Alice Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Clarke,
Todd Rundgren,
The Grass Roots,
Lou Christie,
Blancmange,
Roxette,
Darondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sound,
AZ,
E-Dancer,
Janne Schatter,
Harry Pussy,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.