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 Nauru and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 harpsichord 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 Slits to the grime 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Lalann,
D'Angelo,
The Raincoats,
Drexciya,
Shoche,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bronski Beat,
The Searchers,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Don Cherry,
Anthony Braxton,
Lindisfarne,
MC5,
Gong,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Procol Harum,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
AZ,
Sun Ra,
Ponytail,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
Moby Grape,
Model 500,
Tim Buckley,
Rapeman,
the Normal,
The Slits,
The Vogues,
James White and The Blacks,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bush Tetras,
Nico,
John Foxx,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soft Cell,
Make Up,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pole,
Delta 5,
Joy Division,
Jacob Miller,
Leonard Cohen,
The Mummies,
The Durutti Column,
Oblivians,
New Age Steppers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sound,
The Misunderstood,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.