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 Djibouti and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Porter Ricks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Clear Light,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Axelrod,
La Düsseldorf,
T. Rex,
Ituana,
ABBA,
the Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Hashim,
The Walker Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Dave Gahan,
John Foxx,
Tom Boy,
Adolescents,
The Grass Roots,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
MC5,
One Last Wish,
Pagans,
48th St. Collective,
Technova,
Crash Course in Science,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Litter,
Mars,
Cal Tjader,
Jacques Brel,
Blake Baxter,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Coltrane,
Don Cherry,
Mad Mike,
Qualms,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mummies,
Intrusion,
The Barracudas,
Public Image Ltd.,
Zero Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Susan Cadogan,
Arab on Radar,
The Real Kids,
Trumans Water,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
New Order,
Peter and Kerry,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.