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 Colombia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Q65 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Metal Thangz,
Thompson Twins,
Marmalade,
Mission of Burma,
Throbbing Gristle,
Unrelated Segments,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
Soft Machine,
Crime,
Icehouse,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Happenings,
Arthur Verocai,
the Association,
Roy Ayers,
Model 500,
World's Most,
DJ Style,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Vogues,
Joe Smooth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bang On A Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fear,
Wasted Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Procol Harum,
The Slackers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sällskapet,
The Sound,
The Cowsills,
Delon & Dalcan,
Leonard Cohen,
Thee Headcoats,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
AZ,
The Kinks,
Ornette Coleman,
Youth Brigade,
Pylon,
Hashim,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
Toni Rubio,
Graham Central Station,
Al Stewart,
The Gap Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.