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 Iceland and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Star Department,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lungfish,
June Days,
Man Parrish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Slits,
Massinfluence,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
Junior Murvin,
Morten Harket,
Sight & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Fear,
Graham Central Station,
Sugar Minott,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Jandek,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Stetsasonic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Grandmaster Flash,
cv313,
the Sonics,
The Trojans,
Joe Finger,
Dual Sessions,
MDC,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Pretty Things,
Joey Negro,
CMW,
Masters at Work,
Glenn Branca,
The Busters,
Kenny Larkin,
Inner City,
Mr. Review,
Kaleidoscope,
Arab on Radar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blancmange,
Gang Starr,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Association,
Goldenarms,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lyres,
Sandy B,
DNA,
Robert Görl,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
John Holt,
The Fugs,
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.