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 Comoros and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Grass Roots to the techno 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
China Crisis,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
Scientists,
Interpol,
Jacob Miller,
Josef K,
Black Pus,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
Nik Kershaw,
OOIOO,
Marine Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Organ,
Fear,
The Sound,
Roxy Music,
Bronski Beat,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Sonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Prunes,
The Cowsills,
Lalann,
Banda Bassotti,
Arcadia,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs,
Lindisfarne,
Sex Pistols,
June of 44,
Kenny Larkin,
Q65,
Ultra Naté,
Nick Fraelich,
The Star Department,
Eli Mardock,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Kayak,
John Cale,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ituana,
the Human League,
Monks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Intrusion,
Sugar Minott,
DJ Style,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.