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 Moldova and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pagans to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxy Music,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Hood,
The Misunderstood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
T. Rex,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pylon,
Lightning Bolt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Dawn Penn,
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Skatalites,
Main Source,
Bill Near,
Motorama,
Mars,
The Human League,
Vladislav Delay,
Cecil Taylor,
Lindisfarne,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Todd Terry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tres Demented,
Tomorrow,
The Wake,
Bobby Sherman,
48th St. Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bush Tetras,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Organ,
Anthony Braxton,
The Smoke,
Glenn Branca,
The Red Krayola,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
The Walker Brothers,
Soul II Soul,
Rotary Connection,
Connie Case,
Darondo,
Spandau Ballet,
Toni Rubio,
Crash Course in Science,
Funky Four + One,
F. McDonald,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.