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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Real Kids to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
Heaven 17,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Swans,
The Gladiators,
The Golliwogs,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
Von Mondo,
Swans,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Music Machine,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Clarke,
Clear Light,
The Dead C,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tim Buckley,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
X-102,
Neil Young,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Knickerbockers,
Goldenarms,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Skarface,
Reuben Wilson,
Avey Tare,
Theoretical Girls,
Derrick May,
Lyres,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moss Icon,
Sixth Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tomorrow,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Agitation Free,
Sun Ra,
The Black Dice,
Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Buzzcocks,
Kas Product,
Cymande,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.