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 Barbados and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Robert Palmer 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 The Divine Comedy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Rod Modell,
The Gladiators,
Barbara Tucker,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cramps,
Depeche Mode,
Sex Pistols,
Circle Jerks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crispian St. Peters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Remains,
Smog,
Pet Shop Boys,
New York Dolls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Metal Thangz,
Bluetip,
Second Layer,
Shuggie Otis,
China Crisis,
Lindisfarne,
The Mummies,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Section 25,
Basic Channel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Martian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camouflage,
Newcleus,
Cybotron,
Lower 48,
Icehouse,
The Modern Lovers,
Public Enemy,
the Normal,
Dark Day,
Scott Walker,
Dennis Brown,
the Germs,
Joey Negro,
Scan 7,
The Stooges,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
The Moody Blues,
Yaz,
H. Thieme,
Kerrie Biddell,
Monolake,
Arab on Radar,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
FM Einheit,
Sonic Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun City Girls,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.