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 the UAE and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Normal to the punk 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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Velvet Underground,
Skriet,
Eve St. Jones,
the Swans,
Neil Young,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Skarface,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fuzztones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Sonics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cecil Taylor,
Masters at Work,
Smog,
Bauhaus,
The Doors,
The Pretty Things,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
Rites of Spring,
Jawbox,
JFA,
Marine Girls,
Pussy Galore,
Spoonie Gee,
Au Pairs,
the Sonics,
Animal Collective,
The New Christs,
The Martian,
Joyce Sims,
the Germs,
Eric Copeland,
F. McDonald,
Todd Rundgren,
Scott Walker,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Clarke,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Altered Images,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
New Order,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jandek,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
The Busters,
Symarip,
Yellowson,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.