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 Brunei and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 T.S.O.L. to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Motorama,
Drexciya,
KRS-One,
Make Up,
Godley & Creme,
Donald Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Wells,
The Smiths,
The Cowsills,
Byron Stingily,
The Martian,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dave Gahan,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bill Near,
Mandrill,
Althea and Donna,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Halsall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
Agitation Free,
Mary Jane Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grauzone,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Finger,
Gabor Szabo,
Peter and Kerry,
The Toasters,
Quando Quango,
La Düsseldorf,
AZ,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Terry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
X-101,
The American Breed,
Banda Bassotti,
Roxette,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
The Walker Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
10cc,
Nas,
Clear Light,
Minny Pops,
Junior Murvin,
Dawn Penn,
Reuben Wilson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Metal Thangz,
Theoretical Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.