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 Finland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Dorothy Ashby to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Intrusion,
Junior Murvin,
Neu!,
Graham Central Station,
The Dave Clark Five,
Duran Duran,
Grey Daturas,
kango's stein massive,
Minutemen,
Quantec,
Eric Copeland,
Roy Ayers,
These Immortal Souls,
the Germs,
Black Sheep,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
Maurizio,
Monks,
Trumans Water,
Talk Talk,
Mission of Burma,
Sight & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fluxion,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Sherman,
The Skatalites,
Von Mondo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Arthur Verocai,
the Association,
Eve St. Jones,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radio Birdman,
Can,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultravox,
the Sonics,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Hood,
Technova,
Main Source,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mummies,
Mo-Dettes,
This Heat,
The Gladiators,
The United States of America,
Simply Red,
Marine Girls,
Skaos,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harry Pussy,
A Certain Ratio,
Con Funk Shun,
Lower 48,
48th St. Collective,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.