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 Qatar and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Oblivians,
Ten City,
The Smoke,
The Sound,
The Busters,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Womack,
Barry Ungar,
Robert Wyatt,
Visage,
H. Thieme,
Bang On A Can,
The Remains,
Pole,
Pulsallama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moby Grape,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
Scion,
Marc Almond,
Television Personalities,
Reuben Wilson,
Monks,
The Vogues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Absolute Body Control,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Ituana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Christie,
The Motions,
Goldenarms,
The Litter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
OOIOO,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boredoms,
Hasil Adkins,
Kenny Larkin,
Y Pants,
Eden Ahbez,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Outsiders,
David McCallum,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Toasters,
Wings,
Tom Boy,
T. Rex,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.