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 Zambia and from London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Au Pairs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pagans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Fela Kuti,
Goldenarms,
Eli Mardock,
Tim Buckley,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bill Near,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Clarke,
Agent Orange,
Alphaville,
David McCallum,
Audionom,
Marine Girls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dead Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Fluxion,
Josef K,
Adolescents,
Thee Headcoats,
Gastr Del Sol,
Metal Thangz,
Slick Rick,
Rotary Connection,
Mad Mike,
H. Thieme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mantronix,
Pussy Galore,
Sandy B,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
X-Ray Spex,
The American Breed,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
The Stooges,
Marcia Griffiths,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Human League,
Grauzone,
Underground Resistance,
Grey Daturas,
Gong,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
Toni Rubio,
The J.B.'s,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
Maurizio,
New Order,
Gang Green,
Pere Ubu,
The Detroit Cobras,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.