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 Taiwan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jawbox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Sun Ra,
Oblivians,
Pylon,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
K-Klass,
Sight & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Average White Band,
Colin Newman,
Spandau Ballet,
Bang On A Can,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
Ken Boothe,
Black Moon,
Negative Approach,
Yazoo,
Erasure,
ABC,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Soft Cell,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Star Department,
Moby Grape,
Robert Hood,
Juan Atkins,
Andrew Hill,
The United States of America,
The Moody Blues,
Rufus Thomas,
The Black Dice,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swans,
Technova,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Amazonics,
X-102,
Tears for Fears,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Inner City,
Idris Muhammad,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scion,
ABBA,
Cameo,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
Janne Schatter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
PIL,
Heaven 17,
Arab on Radar,
Simply Red,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.