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 Georgia and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Marine Girls to the grunge 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Robert Görl,
Japan,
Derrick May,
D'Angelo,
Roxy Music,
Flipper,
Moby Grape,
Altered Images,
Terry Callier,
The Doobie Brothers,
Parry Music,
Josef K,
Bobby Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wasted Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Litter,
The Index,
Rod Modell,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
PIL,
The Blues Magoos,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Motions,
Todd Rundgren,
Slave,
the Germs,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
James White and The Blacks,
Nik Kershaw,
Magma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Names,
Sugar Minott,
Sister Nancy,
Scan 7,
Carl Craig,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Busters,
John Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jeff Mills,
Agitation Free,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
Brass Construction,
Barrington Levy,
New Age Steppers,
Ossler,
Accadde A,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.