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 Mauritania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Matthew Bourne to the electroclash 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Chrome,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Nick Fraelich,
8 Eyed Spy,
Motorama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reagan Youth,
Carl Craig,
Ronan,
Laurel Aitken,
Danielle Patucci,
48th St. Collective,
Ice-T,
the Germs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Joyce Sims,
Judy Mowatt,
Absolute Body Control,
Buzzcocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
The Golliwogs,
Colin Newman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
The Litter,
Dual Sessions,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harry Pussy,
Rod Modell,
Moby Grape,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
A Certain Ratio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
Pet Shop Boys,
kango's stein massive,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
Tres Demented,
The Smoke,
Cluster,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Techniques,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eddi Front,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Albert Ayler,
Hot Snakes,
Deakin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.