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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 snare 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül II,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
Joy Division,
Bronski Beat,
Idris Muhammad,
Crispy Ambulance,
Duran Duran,
Country Teasers,
Negative Approach,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Avey Tare,
The Toasters,
The Red Krayola,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang On A Can,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
Grauzone,
Stiv Bators,
Interpol,
James White and The Blacks,
The Sound,
ABBA,
The Blackbyrds,
The Saints,
Reuben Wilson,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Searchers,
Radiohead,
Brass Construction,
Minutemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
The Gladiators,
Anakelly,
The Grass Roots,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heaven 17,
Dark Day,
Kas Product,
Sight & Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
Surgeon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Max Romeo,
The Litter,
Gang Starr,
Amazonics,
The American Breed,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.