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 Albania and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 The Monochrome Set to the disco 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Move,
Eddi Front,
Gong,
Joyce Sims,
Erykah Badu,
CMW,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Infiniti,
The Searchers,
PIL,
Gichy Dan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Index,
Electric Prunes,
Pere Ubu,
H. Thieme,
The Vogues,
Susan Cadogan,
Prince Buster,
Barrington Levy,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Green,
Fear,
Pussy Galore,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dark Day,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skarface,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Boredoms,
Eli Mardock,
Kurtis Blow,
A Certain Ratio,
Echospace,
Harmonia,
Swans,
The Durutti Column,
New York Dolls,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Clarke,
Reagan Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Talk Talk,
Ornette Coleman,
Scientists,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fluxion,
Bootsy Collins,
Wasted Youth,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.