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 Liechtenstein and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Piero Umiliani to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ten City,
L. Decosne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Electric Prunes,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Minor Threat,
Marine Girls,
China Crisis,
Jerry's Kids,
Clear Light,
Malaria!,
Sarah Menescal,
Jimmy McGriff,
Johnny Clarke,
The Saints,
Cybotron,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Easy Going,
Wolf Eyes,
Youth Brigade,
A Certain Ratio,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
Depeche Mode,
Tom Boy,
Minnie Riperton,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Green,
Interpol,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
EPMD,
Man Parrish,
Spandau Ballet,
Barrington Levy,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
Newcleus,
Sixth Finger,
Sun City Girls,
The Blues Magoos,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Golliwogs,
Shuggie Otis,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
Lucky Dragons,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
Ponytail,
Marmalade,
Fad Gadget,
Bluetip,
The Wake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camouflage,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.