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 United Kingdom and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 oboe 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 James White and The Blacks to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
X-102,
Scion,
Joy Division,
The Pretty Things,
Pantytec,
Ten City,
The Skatalites,
Alton Ellis,
Stiv Bators,
Inner City,
Amon Düül,
Maurizio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
James White and The Blacks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Alice Coltrane,
Chrome,
Icehouse,
Royal Trux,
Jacob Miller,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
Joensuu 1685,
Moby Grape,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Monochrome Set,
Masters at Work,
Charles Mingus,
Dave Gahan,
Terry Callier,
Steve Hackett,
Gong,
Suicide,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ludus,
Aaron Thompson,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
Arthur Verocai,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Jawbox,
Aural Exciters,
Swell Maps,
The Golliwogs,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gang of Four,
Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire, Cabaret Voltaire.
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.