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 Sierra Leone and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Funkadelic to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick Morgan,
Bauhaus,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Parry Music,
Tomorrow,
Erykah Badu,
Joe Finger,
A Flock of Seagulls,
This Heat,
Severed Heads,
Oblivians,
Hardrive,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Althea and Donna,
Reuben Wilson,
New Order,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mark Hollis,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
the Slits,
Ronan,
Minor Threat,
Kurtis Blow,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doors,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
The Five Americans,
Rotary Connection,
Eden Ahbez,
Connie Case,
Wasted Youth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
Thee Headcoats,
Slave,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
The Vogues,
Ultra Naté,
Kenny Larkin,
The Black Dice,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
Susan Cadogan,
Soft Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rod Modell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.