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 Brazil and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Smog to the punk 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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alton Ellis,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
The Gap Band,
Symarip,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smoke,
Rapeman,
Metal Thangz,
The Fortunes,
Echospace,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Grandmaster Flash,
PIL,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
New York Dolls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Wire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tommy Roe,
Warsaw,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
10cc,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Brand Nubian,
Mandrill,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
This Heat,
Can,
The Gun Club,
Eden Ahbez,
Iggy Pop,
Terry Callier,
Intrusion,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bad Manners,
Marc Almond,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.