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 Azerbaijan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Quadrant to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Doors,
Rekid,
Byron Stingily,
Crime,
Soft Machine,
Scion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flash Fearless,
The Doobie Brothers,
Index,
Tears for Fears,
James White and The Blacks,
Amazonics,
Subhumans,
Scratch Acid,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Faust,
The Fugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soul II Soul,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Age Steppers,
Al Stewart,
Q65,
Section 25,
Todd Terry,
The Slits,
Aural Exciters,
The Sound,
The Young Rascals,
Public Image Ltd.,
Circle Jerks,
The Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Neu!,
Oneida,
The Invisible,
Don Cherry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Surgeon,
The Associates,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-102,
Spoonie Gee,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dead Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.