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 Fiji and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Surgeon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Fall,
The Modern Lovers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Don Cherry,
The Raincoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harry Pussy,
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
The Neon Judgement,
Ice-T,
Brick,
Piero Umiliani,
Slave,
Pantytec,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
T. Rex,
Max Romeo,
Index,
Motorama,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
Zero Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barrington Levy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joensuu 1685,
Smog,
Jeff Mills,
the Slits,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
Kerrie Biddell,
MC5,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fad Gadget,
the Association,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Dolphy,
Cal Tjader,
Morten Harket,
The Selecter,
Jacob Miller,
Prince Buster,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Organ,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eddi Front,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.