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 Guyana and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Flag,
Crime,
Pierre Henry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Black Moon,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Skriet,
Arab on Radar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Essential Logic,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
Wally Richardson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
UT,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Smiths,
Juan Atkins,
Ohio Players,
Agent Orange,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Thee Headcoats,
The Five Americans,
Charles Mingus,
Fluxion,
Clear Light,
Tim Buckley,
The Buckinghams,
Eli Mardock,
Freddie Wadling,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Franke,
Loose Ends,
Livin' Joy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.