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 Bahamas and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare 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 Fad Gadget to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Stetsasonic,
Arcadia,
Ken Boothe,
Man Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Names,
The Star Department,
Loose Ends,
Nico,
Porter Ricks,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pantytec,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
D'Angelo,
The Offenders,
Lakeside,
New Age Steppers,
Cybotron,
Sam Rivers,
Moss Icon,
The Smoke,
Groovy Waters,
the Association,
Wings,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sonics,
The Martian,
Youth Brigade,
The American Breed,
The Techniques,
Bad Manners,
Dorothy Ashby,
Franke,
Neu!,
48th St. Collective,
Livin' Joy,
Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
John Coltrane,
Delta 5,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Al Stewart,
Rod Modell,
Leonard Cohen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Althea and Donna,
Monks,
The Misunderstood,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Pus,
Bob Dylan,
Roger Hodgson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls, Marine Girls.
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.