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 Haiti and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Todd Rundgren,
Aaron Thompson,
Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
Bang On A Can,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Skatalites,
The Barracudas,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Electric Prunes,
The United States of America,
Glenn Branca,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arab on Radar,
U.S. Maple,
Crispian St. Peters,
K-Klass,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dirtbombs,
David Bowie,
T. Rex,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ohio Players,
The Angels of Light,
Morten Harket,
The Fortunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The New Christs,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
The Evens,
Pagans,
Theoretical Girls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brand Nubian,
Kurtis Blow,
New Order,
UT,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
Crime,
Junior Murvin,
the Sonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantaleimon,
Warsaw,
One Last Wish,
Silicon Teens,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Max Romeo,
Deepchord,
Rakim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.