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 Sri Lanka and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Fortunes to the funk 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
The Red Krayola,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Names,
Pierre Henry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warren Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
The Seeds,
Nico,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rites of Spring,
Terrestrial Tones,
These Immortal Souls,
Cymande,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
Franke,
Swell Maps,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Depeche Mode,
Television,
Con Funk Shun,
Ultra Naté,
Roxy Music,
Brick,
Bad Manners,
Hasil Adkins,
The Busters,
Donny Hathaway,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sugar Minott,
Marmalade,
Absolute Body Control,
Boz Scaggs,
Prince Buster,
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Wasted Youth,
Glenn Branca,
The Cramps,
Goldenarms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Monolake,
Aural Exciters,
Lakeside,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Juan Atkins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
Brand Nubian,
JFA,
Iggy Pop,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.