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 Tuvalu and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 Donald Fagen 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 Pussy Galore to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Rapeman,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Accadde A,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Angels of Light,
Josef K,
One Last Wish,
Country Teasers,
Grey Daturas,
Easy Going,
Tears for Fears,
Malaria!,
The Last Poets,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Susan Cadogan,
The Beau Brummels,
These Immortal Souls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alphaville,
Nik Kershaw,
Pylon,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Slave,
Livin' Joy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Faraquet,
kango's stein massive,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Audionom,
Can,
Nick Fraelich,
Man Eating Sloth,
Subhumans,
The Star Department,
Camouflage,
Blake Baxter,
The Flesh Eaters,
Swell Maps,
Ornette Coleman,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
Howard Jones,
Rosa Yemen,
Colin Newman,
Joy Division,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.