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 Uzbekistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Stockholm.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Depeche Mode to the electroclash 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
David Bowie,
Scott Walker,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Clear Light,
Parry Music,
Radio Birdman,
Aaron Thompson,
Bad Manners,
Sex Pistols,
Eden Ahbez,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric Dolphy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Tubeway Army,
The Misunderstood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Interpol,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pulsallama,
Supertramp,
KRS-One,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fuzztones,
Wire,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
The Modern Lovers,
Organ,
The Barracudas,
Kool Moe Dee,
James White and The Blacks,
Animal Collective,
The Smiths,
Babytalk,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
OOIOO,
Maurizio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
L. Decosne,
X-101,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soulsonic Force,
Smog,
The Dirtbombs,
The Raincoats,
Derrick Morgan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.