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 Yemen and from New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the funk 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Mo-Dettes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fugs,
Qualms,
Loose Ends,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Searchers,
Lower 48,
Yaz,
Anthony Braxton,
One Last Wish,
Black Sheep,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Inner City,
The Standells,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
Young Marble Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Y Pants,
Main Source,
Bootsy Collins,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
Q and Not U,
PIL,
Dead Boys,
H. Thieme,
Alison Limerick,
Joyce Sims,
Black Bananas,
Radiohead,
Ituana,
Suicide,
Faust,
Hasil Adkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
The Busters,
Scott Walker,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
The Golliwogs,
The Star Department,
Ohio Players,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Remains,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Chris Corsano,
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.