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 Monaco and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Unwound to the disco 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
In Retrospect,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Newcleus,
Deakin,
The Kinks,
Y Pants,
New York Dolls,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Derrick May,
Chris & Cosey,
Lindisfarne,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Basic Channel,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
Roxette,
Man Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bronski Beat,
Patti Smith,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Wells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacob Miller,
10cc,
Maurizio,
Archie Shepp,
Electric Prunes,
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
Michelle Simonal,
Nils Olav,
Unrelated Segments,
Marcia Griffiths,
Absolute Body Control,
The Modern Lovers,
Mission of Burma,
Dual Sessions,
CMW,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Sherman,
The Associates,
Crispy Ambulance,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
ABBA,
the Germs,
John Foxx,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Normal,
Bauhaus,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.