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 Zimbabwe and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Country Teasers to the punk 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 Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
David Axelrod,
Stiv Bators,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eddi Front,
Kaleidoscope,
Surgeon,
The Buckinghams,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
MDC,
Ornette Coleman,
Skaos,
The Red Krayola,
Jeru the Damaja,
K-Klass,
48th St. Collective,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
The Toasters,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
the Sonics,
CMW,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Foxx,
Black Moon,
The Saints,
Agent Orange,
Sister Nancy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
MC5,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pole,
Mantronix,
Al Stewart,
The Searchers,
Nas,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fugs,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
The Young Rascals,
the Germs,
Janne Schatter,
Lyres,
Sight & Sound,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Faust,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.