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 Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Skatalites record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Age Steppers,
John Cale,
Royal Trux,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
This Heat,
Alphaville,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Flash Fearless,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Zapp,
John Foxx,
Youth Brigade,
Sex Pistols,
Quantec,
Maurizio,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Whodini,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
Darondo,
Das Ding,
Bill Wells,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
Erasure,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
The Blues Magoos,
The United States of America,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moleskins,
Ultra Naté,
Tubeway Army,
Cheater Slicks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eurythmics,
Fat Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Siglo XX,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-101,
Tom Boy,
Barbara Tucker,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.