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 Zimbabwe and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Martian,
The Motions,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Kinks,
The Residents,
Soft Cell,
Quantec,
Das Ding,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
Sex Pistols,
Lalo Schifrin,
Panda Bear,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
Dual Sessions,
Animal Collective,
Circle Jerks,
Little Man,
Terry Callier,
The Misunderstood,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tommy Roe,
Mad Mike,
FM Einheit,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Pierre Henry,
Ossler,
Mr. Review,
Connie Case,
Neu!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Matthew Halsall,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Davy DMX,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
Hoover,
Black Sheep,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boz Scaggs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
The Raincoats,
Sparks,
48th St. Collective,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Harmonia,
Marvin Gaye,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.