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 Afghanistan and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 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 Alice Coltrane to the techno 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Guru Guru,
Blancmange,
X-Ray Spex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rufus Thomas,
Los Fastidios,
The Moody Blues,
Das Ding,
Accadde A,
Livin' Joy,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
Audionom,
Iggy Pop,
Fugazi,
Yellowson,
Clear Light,
The Mummies,
The Dead C,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Standells,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pantytec,
Mark Hollis,
Chrome,
Arthur Verocai,
Skarface,
The Fire Engines,
Echospace,
Barry Ungar,
Rod Modell,
Schoolly D,
Index,
Talk Talk,
Rakim,
The Kinks,
Morten Harket,
The Star Department,
John Foxx,
Television,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
The United States of America,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sparks,
Mo-Dettes,
The Knickerbockers,
Harry Pussy,
Cameo,
Ken Boothe,
Rekid,
Ice-T,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.