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 Seychelles and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord 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 Scratch Acid to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Guru Guru,
a-ha,
Surgeon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Black Sheep,
The Standells,
The Buckinghams,
Oblivians,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kaleidoscope,
Blancmange,
The Mojo Men,
Brass Construction,
Connie Case,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fatback Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
Lungfish,
Morten Harket,
The Flesh Eaters,
Reuben Wilson,
Robert Wyatt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
Ralphi Rosario,
Inner City,
The Walker Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amazonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Qualms,
Marmalade,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Nico,
In Retrospect,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Sam Rivers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eli Mardock,
The Gun Club,
Wolf Eyes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Swans,
The Mummies,
The Techniques,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.