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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Nile Rodgers 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 T. Rex to the crunk 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 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?
Delta 5,
Mantronix,
X-Ray Spex,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
This Heat,
Harry Pussy,
Joe Smooth,
Lungfish,
Quantec,
Animal Collective,
Junior Murvin,
Johnny Clarke,
Monolake,
Morten Harket,
Nik Kershaw,
Nico,
The Invisible,
Half Japanese,
The Evens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Blancmange,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sugar Minott,
The Fortunes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Barracudas,
F. McDonald,
Peter & Gordon,
The Toasters,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
World's Most,
The Leaves,
The Techniques,
Sandy B,
Spandau Ballet,
The Five Americans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Kinks,
Lyres,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Style,
8 Eyed Spy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Velvet Underground,
Bad Manners,
Black Flag,
Joyce Sims,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Raincoats,
The Seeds,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Fire Engines,
X-101,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ken Boothe,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.