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 Yemen and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
The Techniques,
Chris Corsano,
Alton Ellis,
The Associates,
Pere Ubu,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
Maleditus Sound,
Sex Pistols,
UT,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Metal Thangz,
Youth Brigade,
X-102,
Surgeon,
Bobby Sherman,
Toni Rubio,
Popol Vuh,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Deadbeat,
John Cale,
Black Moon,
Con Funk Shun,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Standells,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
The Gun Club,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
the Sonics,
Goldenarms,
10cc,
Ludus,
Matthew Halsall,
Little Man,
Sister Nancy,
Graham Central Station,
John Foxx,
Wasted Youth,
Newcleus,
Cheater Slicks,
Minor Threat,
Franke,
The Flesh Eaters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Fuzztones,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Reuben Wilson,
PIL,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.