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 Papua New Guinea and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer 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 Gang Green to the dance 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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Angels of Light,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skriet,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Theoretical Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Newcleus,
Lou Reed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sonics,
Minnie Riperton,
the Soft Cell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Human League,
the Normal,
Amon Düül II,
Spoonie Gee,
The Remains,
Scientists,
The Neon Judgement,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
L. Decosne,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings,
Audionom,
The Searchers,
Kaleidoscope,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Franke,
K-Klass,
Jacob Miller,
Negative Approach,
Goldenarms,
John Coltrane,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Residents,
The Smiths,
Qualms,
David Bowie,
Gang of Four,
Camberwell Now,
Guru Guru,
DNA,
Mary Jane Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Joe Smooth,
Essential Logic,
Stetsasonic,
Deakin,
The Fall,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kas Product,
Joy Division,
Deadbeat,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.