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 Georgia and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 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 The Kinks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Mighty Diamonds,
Shoche,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
The Moleskins,
Guru Guru,
the Slits,
Ohio Players,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lou Reed,
Los Fastidios,
Arab on Radar,
Pole,
Oblivians,
Bill Wells,
The Velvet Underground,
Agent Orange,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
48th St. Collective,
Electric Prunes,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eve St. Jones,
Television Personalities,
Robert Wyatt,
Black Bananas,
Terrestrial Tones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Slick Rick,
Roxette,
Barbara Tucker,
Eden Ahbez,
Magazine,
ABBA,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Names,
Visage,
Blancmange,
Babytalk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Parry Music,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Don Cherry,
The Index,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
The Blues Magoos,
Masters at Work,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Outsiders,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lindisfarne,
The Mojo Men,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
Flash Fearless,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.