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 Singapore and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Barbara Tucker to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stereo Dub,
Alice Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Cluster,
Donald Byrd,
DJ Style,
Marc Almond,
Bluetip,
the Soft Cell,
Marine Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Japan,
Arab on Radar,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Grass Roots,
Rapeman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Curtis Mayfield,
Juan Atkins,
The Vogues,
Bill Near,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wolf Eyes,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Godley & Creme,
Icehouse,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ronnie Foster,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Suburban Knight,
Reuben Wilson,
Radio Birdman,
The Wake,
CMW,
Procol Harum,
Easy Going,
Ituana,
Subhumans,
Nas,
Jerry's Kids,
Swell Maps,
the Association,
Mark Hollis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeff Lynne,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
The Five Americans,
The Moody Blues,
Marcia Griffiths,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.