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 Botswana and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 OOIOO 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Eli Mardock,
Gabor Szabo,
Livin' Joy,
The Leaves,
The Searchers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
Pylon,
Technova,
Chris Corsano,
Visage,
Minor Threat,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fear,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Ohio Players,
Masters at Work,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Halsall,
James White and The Blacks,
Popol Vuh,
The Slackers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Detroit Cobras,
Al Stewart,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gap Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Das Ding,
Man Eating Sloth,
UT,
Cymande,
Eden Ahbez,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
David Bowie,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
Scratch Acid,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Moleskins,
Ornette Coleman,
Tres Demented,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Minnie Riperton,
Talk Talk,
Trumans Water,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mars,
Sällskapet,
Crooked Eye,
Brand Nubian,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.