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 East Timor and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Minor Threat,
Slick Rick,
Main Source,
Unrelated Segments,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Pere Ubu,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Sherman,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
Neu!,
Second Layer,
The Standells,
Lyres,
Chris & Cosey,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Maurizio,
Ornette Coleman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Average White Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Television,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sexual Harrassment,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vladislav Delay,
Eurythmics,
Monolake,
JFA,
The Remains,
Animal Collective,
The Zeros,
DJ Style,
a-ha,
Half Japanese,
Mary Jane Girls,
China Crisis,
Johnny Clarke,
OOIOO,
Angry Samoans,
Intrusion,
Organ,
Yellowson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
Aloha Tigers,
John Foxx,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Faraquet,
Mr. Review,
The Gap Band,
Smog,
Peter & Gordon,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.