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 Jordan and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the theremin 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 Don Cherry to the rock 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
the Sonics,
Basic Channel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sonic Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Metal Thangz,
MC5,
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Organ,
Absolute Body Control,
The Seeds,
Hoover,
Fat Boys,
Charles Mingus,
Aural Exciters,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Davy DMX,
Scion,
Bronski Beat,
The Offenders,
Grauzone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Evens,
Steve Hackett,
Fluxion,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
L. Decosne,
Au Pairs,
The Kinks,
Don Cherry,
PIL,
Unrelated Segments,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Soft Cell,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
Infiniti,
Excepter,
Can,
Pussy Galore,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Gong,
Sun Ra,
Arab on Radar,
Yusef Lateef,
Dorothy Ashby,
Public Enemy,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.