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 Qatar and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 ABBA to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Ossler,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pere Ubu,
Swans,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brand Nubian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hasil Adkins,
Nik Kershaw,
Fear,
Jeff Mills,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
R.M.O.,
Liliput,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Agent Orange,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cal Tjader,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Main Source,
Yazoo,
The Gun Club,
CMW,
Oneida,
The Saints,
Slick Rick,
Arcadia,
Godley & Creme,
The Slackers,
Mr. Review,
Chrome,
Arab on Radar,
Ken Boothe,
Morten Harket,
Procol Harum,
The Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
The Fuzztones,
Ultravox,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yaz,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Smooth,
KRS-One,
Trumans Water,
Pole,
Bobby Byrd,
The Raincoats,
Ten City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.