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 Equatorial Guinea and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Surgeon to the jazz 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Cal Tjader,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arthur Verocai,
Lightning Bolt,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Byrd,
Crooked Eye,
Ice-T,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marvin Gaye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Fuzztones,
Popol Vuh,
The Red Krayola,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Blake Baxter,
Depeche Mode,
Angry Samoans,
Infiniti,
Amazonics,
Massinfluence,
Au Pairs,
Delta 5,
Brick,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moleskins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers,
The Last Poets,
Brand Nubian,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Bobby Womack,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roger Hodgson,
Bauhaus,
Jacob Miller,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Whodini,
David McCallum,
Bluetip,
Sparks,
Television Personalities,
Neil Young,
Arcadia,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heaven 17,
EPMD,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.