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 Papua New Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ronan to the jazz 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kool Moe Dee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
Suicide,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Intrusion,
Little Man,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boz Scaggs,
Tim Buckley,
T.S.O.L.,
Marine Girls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cure,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sixth Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Soulsonic Force,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minny Pops,
Unwound,
The Zeros,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cybotron,
K-Klass,
Cheater Slicks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Associates,
Nirvana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mary Jane Girls,
L. Decosne,
Ten City,
Chris & Cosey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tubeway Army,
Stereo Dub,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
Brothers Johnson,
FM Einheit,
Ronan,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
Oneida,
Jacques Brel,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Easy Going,
Youth Brigade,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.