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 Ireland and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Lou Reed 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge 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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Brick,
Jerry's Kids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Basic Channel,
Tears for Fears,
The Black Dice,
The Leaves,
Kurtis Blow,
Underground Resistance,
John Holt,
Index,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dave Gahan,
Sarah Menescal,
Hot Snakes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Litter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pole,
World's Most,
Bizarre Inc.,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ken Boothe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacob Miller,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Supertramp,
Chris & Cosey,
Intrusion,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
Peter & Gordon,
The Misunderstood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wally Richardson,
The Motions,
Chrome,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soulsonic Force,
Alison Limerick,
Duran Duran,
Oneida,
Ten City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
EPMD,
Gang Starr,
John Lydon,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
Massinfluence,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.