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 Brazil and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 Harry Pussy to the techno 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 Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
John Foxx,
The Fortunes,
Subhumans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sun Ra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kaleidoscope,
Thompson Twins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Goldenarms,
Index,
Man Parrish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cybotron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Dave Gahan,
Jesper Dahlback,
Monolake,
Althea and Donna,
Model 500,
Duran Duran,
Black Flag,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Surgeon,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bang On A Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
Crime,
Black Bananas,
Tim Buckley,
The Monochrome Set,
Connie Case,
Arthur Verocai,
Liliput,
The Move,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funky Four + One,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Roxy Music,
This Heat,
Erasure,
Jawbox,
Todd Rundgren,
Dennis Brown,
Clear Light,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.