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 Samoa and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 theremin 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Boz Scaggs,
Urselle,
Joensuu 1685,
The Zeros,
Los Fastidios,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moby Grape,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Remains,
The Happenings,
Main Source,
Motorama,
The Stooges,
Fugazi,
Country Teasers,
Second Layer,
Pole,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ronnie Foster,
the Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
The Mojo Men,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roxette,
Thee Headcoats,
Derrick Morgan,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blackbyrds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Graham Central Station,
Pantytec,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pylon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kerri Chandler,
Carl Craig,
Brick,
ABBA,
Nirvana,
Piero Umiliani,
Howard Jones,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
Underground Resistance,
Cluster,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.