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 Mauritania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lee Hazlewood to the electroclash 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Groovy Waters,
Gong,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
Stiv Bators,
Jeff Mills,
Harmonia,
Hashim,
U.S. Maple,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
Crooked Eye,
Lalann,
Wire,
the Association,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kurtis Blow,
Young Marble Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Graham Central Station,
Funkadelic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Motions,
Bad Manners,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Birthday Party,
Scan 7,
Judy Mowatt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
The Gun Club,
Niagra,
Hardrive,
Franke,
Monks,
Suicide,
Inner City,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sällskapet,
Heaven 17,
Deakin,
Metal Thangz,
Letta Mbulu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.