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 Togo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Bill Wells to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Slits,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
ABBA,
Masters at Work,
Con Funk Shun,
Easy Going,
Pulsallama,
Negative Approach,
Brass Construction,
Stetsasonic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Slits,
Joy Division,
Kaleidoscope,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jandek,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
Peter & Gordon,
Ossler,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ken Boothe,
Oblivians,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crime,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mantronix,
Idris Muhammad,
Freddie Wadling,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wolf Eyes,
Saccharine Trust,
Pantytec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rod Modell,
MDC,
Wally Richardson,
Byron Stingily,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brand Nubian,
Popol Vuh,
The Five Americans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amon Düül,
Tommy Roe,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Smog,
Goldenarms,
Accadde A,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.