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 Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Oneida to the electroclash 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Deadbeat,
Ossler,
Don Cherry,
Donald Byrd,
Malaria!,
Rod Modell,
Barclay James Harvest,
World's Most,
Hashim,
The Smiths,
The Misunderstood,
Q and Not U,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cluster,
Mr. Review,
Bush Tetras,
Pagans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
Henry Cow,
In Retrospect,
Sister Nancy,
Theoretical Girls,
The Trojans,
The Stooges,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Minor Threat,
The Dead C,
Leonard Cohen,
Camberwell Now,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
Japan,
Bang On A Can,
The Angels of Light,
Shoche,
Tommy Roe,
Tres Demented,
The Index,
Half Japanese,
Boredoms,
Warren Ellis,
R.M.O.,
Anthony Braxton,
Dual Sessions,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.