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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Anthony Braxton,
Oblivians,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun City Girls,
Vainqueur,
Harpers Bizarre,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Selecter,
Tom Boy,
Lyres,
The Blues Magoos,
Mary Jane Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Foxx,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Simply Red,
The Index,
The Doors,
Lucky Dragons,
R.M.O.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MC5,
Buzzcocks,
Sugar Minott,
H. Thieme,
DNA,
Wire,
Grandmaster Flash,
Model 500,
Au Pairs,
Joensuu 1685,
Deepchord,
Joey Negro,
Skriet,
The Names,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thompson Twins,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
The Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.