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 Malawi and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heaven 17 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
the Human League,
Lakeside,
The Red Krayola,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
Patti Smith,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Residents,
Ken Boothe,
Porter Ricks,
Leonard Cohen,
The Victims,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jacques Brel,
Malaria!,
The Selecter,
Nirvana,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Das Ding,
Television,
Freddie Wadling,
The Motions,
kango's stein massive,
Arthur Verocai,
Trumans Water,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal,
Interpol,
Kayak,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brothers Johnson,
Jawbox,
X-Ray Spex,
the Sonics,
The Associates,
Spandau Ballet,
Dennis Brown,
The Trojans,
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Warsaw,
Minutemen,
Fugazi,
UT,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Almond,
John Cale,
The Standells,
Brass Construction,
New Age Steppers,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.