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 Nepal and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The United States of America,
Tomorrow,
Simply Red,
Tom Boy,
Rites of Spring,
Mandrill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cure,
OOIOO,
D'Angelo,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magma,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Black Bananas,
Heaven 17,
Drive Like Jehu,
Swans,
Pagans,
Alison Limerick,
CMW,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
Pere Ubu,
JFA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Normal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Sheep,
Nas,
Sugar Minott,
Ultra Naté,
Sister Nancy,
U.S. Maple,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drexciya,
Dave Gahan,
The Barracudas,
Animal Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter & Gordon,
The Sound,
Wasted Youth,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Flamin' Groovies,
Accadde A,
Sparks,
Ronnie Foster,
Ohio Players,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.