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 Cyprus and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Silicon Teens to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Danielle Patucci,
Archie Shepp,
Mad Mike,
Eli Mardock,
Blancmange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Divine Comedy,
Maurizio,
Scratch Acid,
Dark Day,
The Blues Magoos,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Von Mondo,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Parry Music,
The Move,
Minny Pops,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
The Evens,
Ituana,
The Searchers,
The Music Machine,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grauzone,
David McCallum,
Crooked Eye,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sam Rivers,
The Blackbyrds,
Laurel Aitken,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tom Boy,
Deepchord,
Alton Ellis,
Clear Light,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nick Fraelich,
Ohio Players,
Livin' Joy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Silicon Teens,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Raincoats,
EPMD,
Essential Logic,
Bang On A Can,
The American Breed,
Sarah Menescal,
Sun City Girls,
Juan Atkins,
New Age Steppers,
Graham Central Station,
Marmalade,
Sixth Finger,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.