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 Belize and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Cowsills,
Amon Düül II,
Magazine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Divine Comedy,
Danielle Patucci,
Sex Pistols,
Rod Modell,
Public Enemy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Deadbeat,
Frankie Knuckles,
Harpers Bizarre,
Andrew Hill,
Davy DMX,
Sonic Youth,
Technova,
Mission of Burma,
The Five Americans,
Country Teasers,
The Gun Club,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Chris Corsano,
David McCallum,
Sparks,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonny Sharrock,
Glambeats Corp.,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thee Headcoats,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Section 25,
The Toasters,
The Fugs,
Mars,
Average White Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
K-Klass,
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Faust,
Henry Cow,
The Human League,
Moby Grape,
The Slits,
Crime,
The Blackbyrds,
The Walker Brothers,
Hoover,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
Wire,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.