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 South Africa and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator 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 Stockholm Monsters to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
ABC,
Porter Ricks,
UT,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Blues Magoos,
The Pop Group,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lou Reed,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marvin Gaye,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Supertramp,
David Axelrod,
Crash Course in Science,
The Flesh Eaters,
New Order,
Depeche Mode,
Unrelated Segments,
The Cramps,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
This Heat,
Radiohead,
Goldenarms,
X-101,
Janne Schatter,
The Last Poets,
Kenny Larkin,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Piero Umiliani,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
T.S.O.L.,
The Selecter,
Tommy Roe,
Ossler,
The Beau Brummels,
Negative Approach,
CMW,
Skriet,
The Velvet Underground,
Lucky Dragons,
Cheater Slicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Residents,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple,
the Sonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Roger Hodgson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alphaville,
Con Funk Shun,
L. Decosne,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moebius,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deepchord,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.