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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nils Olav to the dance 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Smog,
Mad Mike,
Accadde A,
Mr. Review,
Fatback Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Young Marble Giants,
Hot Snakes,
Japan,
Radio Birdman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Funky Four + One,
Magazine,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
Interpol,
Kerrie Biddell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T. Rex,
Scion,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Human League,
Das Ding,
The Misunderstood,
Bush Tetras,
Nils Olav,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Albert Ayler,
Boredoms,
cv313,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drexciya,
Can,
Nico,
Rites of Spring,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
The Mojo Men,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Alison Limerick,
The Real Kids,
The Fuzztones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Sight & Sound,
Donny Hathaway,
The Birthday Party,
Freddie Wadling,
The Tremeloes,
The Monks,
F. McDonald,
Nik Kershaw,
Sarah Menescal,
Kas Product,
Dead Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.