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 Tunisia and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Tubeway Army to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Smiths,
The Trojans,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Dead C,
Peter and Kerry,
Altered Images,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
MDC,
Eve St. Jones,
The Black Dice,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Inner City,
The Moody Blues,
F. McDonald,
Faust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Hood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Second Layer,
Roger Hodgson,
Monks,
Connie Case,
Arthur Verocai,
Aloha Tigers,
Arcadia,
Adolescents,
Eurythmics,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Real Kids,
Man Parrish,
Stereo Dub,
Joyce Sims,
The Human League,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marvin Gaye,
Nas,
Scion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Stetsasonic,
Piero Umiliani,
Magma,
Gang Gang Dance,
Thompson Twins,
World's Most,
Black Sheep,
Yaz,
Black Bananas,
Soulsonic Force,
The Last Poets,
Minnie Riperton,
The Walker Brothers,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.