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 Venezuela and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pole to the crunk 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Albert Ayler,
Ronnie Foster,
Shoche,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Slits,
CMW,
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
The Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
Man Parrish,
Slick Rick,
The Zeros,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Ornette Coleman,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Accadde A,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Reuben Wilson,
Fluxion,
Kayak,
Arcadia,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeff Lynne,
The Saints,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
MDC,
Piero Umiliani,
Flash Fearless,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roxette,
T.S.O.L.,
New York Dolls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Little Man,
Radio Birdman,
Nick Fraelich,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suicide,
Lou Christie,
Half Japanese,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Flag,
X-101,
Monks,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Todd Rundgren,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Techniques,
The Electric Prunes,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
The American Breed,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Porter Ricks,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.