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 the UAE and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 The Fire Engines to the rap 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Sandy B,
cv313,
Rosa Yemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Judy Mowatt,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
The Remains,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delta 5,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Offenders,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Happenings,
The Techniques,
The Golliwogs,
The Red Krayola,
Mark Hollis,
Supertramp,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
X-101,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skriet,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare,
L. Decosne,
The Grass Roots,
Morten Harket,
Boredoms,
David Axelrod,
Rekid,
Piero Umiliani,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
EPMD,
Flash Fearless,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Unrelated Segments,
Bang On A Can,
Gang Green,
The Seeds,
Andrew Hill,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Cell,
Harmonia,
Gichy Dan,
Royal Trux,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gun Club,
Rod Modell,
Funky Four + One,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.