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 Russia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 New York Dolls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Glenn Branca,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Deepchord,
The J.B.'s,
The Five Americans,
KRS-One,
Lou Reed,
These Immortal Souls,
Alison Limerick,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
Lyres,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mr. Review,
New Order,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
The Golliwogs,
Thompson Twins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Rosa Yemen,
Sound Behaviour,
Vainqueur,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ludus,
Erasure,
UT,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Eating Sloth,
One Last Wish,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yellowson,
Patti Smith,
Procol Harum,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sandy B,
Depeche Mode,
Soulsonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mandrill,
Zero Boys,
The Remains,
Negative Approach,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Q65,
The Toasters,
Iggy Pop,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Smog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
The Evens,
Scott Walker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.