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 Egypt and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dave Clark Five to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
Derrick Morgan,
Scrapy,
The Divine Comedy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eurythmics,
Vainqueur,
Harry Pussy,
Nils Olav,
Glenn Branca,
Althea and Donna,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
The Techniques,
Television Personalities,
The Martian,
Terry Callier,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Motions,
E-Dancer,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Panda Bear,
The Gladiators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marmalade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
L. Decosne,
Adolescents,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Tropical Tobacco,
Shoche,
Thee Headcoats,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Das Ding,
X-102,
The Modern Lovers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Laurel Aitken,
Dark Day,
Alphaville,
The Skatalites,
Altered Images,
Rod Modell,
Theoretical Girls,
The Offenders,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.