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 Vietnam and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Howard Jones to the rap 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Misunderstood,
Althea and Donna,
Clear Light,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Divine Comedy,
Slave,
John Cale,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thee Headcoats,
ABBA,
Minny Pops,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Reagan Youth,
Electric Prunes,
The Five Americans,
The Happenings,
John Holt,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
Rod Modell,
Andrew Hill,
Harmonia,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Mills,
Ituana,
MC5,
Dawn Penn,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
The Modern Lovers,
The Tremeloes,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
Delta 5,
CMW,
Average White Band,
Jerry's Kids,
The Evens,
Jawbox,
Godley & Creme,
Urselle,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Prince Buster,
Simply Red,
Roxette,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Drexciya,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.