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 Ethiopia and from Lyon.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Warren Ellis,
The Saints,
8 Eyed Spy,
Prince Buster,
Arthur Verocai,
Sandy B,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Sight & Sound,
Young Marble Giants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Royal Trux,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantaleimon,
the Germs,
The Toasters,
Janne Schatter,
The Names,
Moebius,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
The Walker Brothers,
Scan 7,
Skriet,
Boredoms,
Depeche Mode,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
UT,
Pagans,
One Last Wish,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Faraquet,
Nils Olav,
Television,
R.M.O.,
Ponytail,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
The Monochrome Set,
These Immortal Souls,
Organ,
Radiohead,
Flash Fearless,
The Vogues,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
Man Parrish,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.