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 Singapore and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wings to the rock 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fat Boys,
The Names,
Derrick Morgan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Offenders,
Bootsy Collins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
X-101,
Au Pairs,
Livin' Joy,
The Divine Comedy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erasure,
Black Moon,
Pagans,
Sexual Harrassment,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
Liliput,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Blackbyrds,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Cybotron,
The Black Dice,
Henry Cow,
Sun City Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
Nirvana,
Althea and Donna,
Second Layer,
Scrapy,
Shoche,
Subhumans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Freddie Wadling,
Blossom Toes,
Barry Ungar,
Pussy Galore,
Joey Negro,
Arthur Verocai,
Patti Smith,
Bizarre Inc.,
Roxette,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Ohio Players,
The United States of America,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Pere Ubu,
The Blues Magoos,
Chrome,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.