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 Norway and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Max Romeo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Excepter,
Aural Exciters,
Kayak,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lungfish,
Robert Wyatt,
The Barracudas,
Liliput,
Maleditus Sound,
Sam Rivers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Danielle Patucci,
Stockholm Monsters,
Colin Newman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Supertramp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The United States of America,
Slick Rick,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marc Almond,
Joey Negro,
Arcadia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Young Rascals,
Scrapy,
The Litter,
La Düsseldorf,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sex Pistols,
Cybotron,
Chris Corsano,
The Monks,
Boredoms,
Unrelated Segments,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magazine,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Saints,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Hood,
Sound Behaviour,
Moby Grape,
Neu!,
Joe Finger,
Barry Ungar,
Soft Cell,
The Dirtbombs,
48th St. Collective,
Robert Görl,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
DJ Style,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.