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 Canada and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Dead Boys to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
EPMD,
The Pretty Things,
the Germs,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
Soft Cell,
Supertramp,
The Mummies,
David McCallum,
Alison Limerick,
Mars,
Pierre Henry,
Eric Copeland,
Ossler,
DNA,
10cc,
Lower 48,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sister Nancy,
Prince Buster,
Derrick Morgan,
Mandrill,
Unrelated Segments,
Erasure,
The Neon Judgement,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Skriet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
Barry Ungar,
Hot Snakes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sällskapet,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Jandek,
Dawn Penn,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
Delta 5,
Sight & Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Bananas,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nik Kershaw,
Infiniti,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed,
The Smiths,
This Heat,
The Black Dice,
Man Eating Sloth,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Soul II Soul,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New Age Steppers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.