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 Spokane.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Hood to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Public Image Ltd. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deadbeat,
Grauzone,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Remains,
Nik Kershaw,
Parry Music,
PIL,
Yusef Lateef,
Scientists,
Mark Hollis,
The Doors,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
R.M.O.,
Minutemen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
In Retrospect,
Surgeon,
Graham Central Station,
The Neon Judgement,
Hasil Adkins,
The Last Poets,
Urselle,
Lalann,
Motorama,
L. Decosne,
Jacques Brel,
The Black Dice,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Ludus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wings,
Inner City,
F. McDonald,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glenn Branca,
Hardrive,
Main Source,
Bronski Beat,
Todd Terry,
Sonic Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
The Real Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
China Crisis,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
The Misunderstood,
Jandek,
The Velvet Underground,
Aloha Tigers,
the Association,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.