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 Grenada and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 John Holt to the funk 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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cecil Taylor,
June of 44,
Danielle Patucci,
Shuggie Otis,
Janne Schatter,
Wasted Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Warsaw,
T.S.O.L.,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
Anthony Braxton,
LL Cool J,
Eli Mardock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Y Pants,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Alphaville,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skarface,
Sam Rivers,
the Sonics,
Ice-T,
H. Thieme,
Ituana,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bootsy Collins,
Basic Channel,
Bluetip,
Reuben Wilson,
Infiniti,
The Standells,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxy Music,
Maurizio,
Alton Ellis,
New Age Steppers,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
Goldenarms,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fluxion,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Negative Approach,
Oneida,
Agent Orange,
the Normal,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.