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 Panama and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glenn Branca,
The Cure,
Simply Red,
The Golliwogs,
Index,
Pulsallama,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Peter and Kerry,
Sparks,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Massinfluence,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lungfish,
ABBA,
Yellowson,
The Standells,
Ossler,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
The Moleskins,
Steve Hackett,
Judy Mowatt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nirvana,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
Dorothy Ashby,
Johnny Clarke,
Sam Rivers,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pierre Henry,
Zapp,
The Names,
June of 44,
Chris Corsano,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Trumans Water,
Smog,
The Blackbyrds,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
One Last Wish,
Skarface,
Jeff Mills,
David Axelrod,
Joensuu 1685,
Aaron Thompson,
Amazonics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Slits,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.