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 Sri Lanka 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Cowsills to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Boredoms,
Agent Orange,
The Monochrome Set,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fat Boys,
Roxy Music,
Marvin Gaye,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Eve St. Jones,
Desert Stars,
D'Angelo,
Wings,
Byron Stingily,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
Jawbox,
Television Personalities,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joensuu 1685,
Von Mondo,
The Fugs,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Hood,
Crooked Eye,
Fugazi,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kerri Chandler,
The Birthday Party,
The Motions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Knickerbockers,
The Count Five,
Mars,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ornette Coleman,
Severed Heads,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Clear Light,
Sparks,
Rufus Thomas,
Banda Bassotti,
Dual Sessions,
Half Japanese,
Urselle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.