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 Brazil and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 sitar 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cowsills,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nirvana,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Soft Cell,
Funky Four + One,
The Victims,
the Slits,
Nico,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Amon Düül,
Spandau Ballet,
Kayak,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Accadde A,
Heaven 17,
OOIOO,
Pylon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Peter and Kerry,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Harry Pussy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lightning Bolt,
Kas Product,
Josef K,
ABC,
Circle Jerks,
Glenn Branca,
Sparks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jacob Miller,
Quando Quango,
Babytalk,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
New Order,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Grauzone,
Suburban Knight,
Andrew Hill,
Cameo,
Wire,
Theoretical Girls,
Jandek,
Simply Red,
X-102,
Newcleus,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.