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 Montenegro and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Real Kids to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fuzztones,
Jeff Mills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
Suicide,
The Golliwogs,
Jerry's Kids,
Joy Division,
PIL,
The Pretty Things,
Visage,
The New Christs,
One Last Wish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
kango's stein massive,
Interpol,
Newcleus,
Mission of Burma,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
R.M.O.,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Vogues,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Suburban Knight,
Zapp,
Dead Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moby Grape,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Throbbing Gristle,
JFA,
Cal Tjader,
Crooked Eye,
Pierre Henry,
Scrapy,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masters at Work,
The Dead C,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bill Near,
The Saints,
Goldenarms,
Dave Gahan,
X-Ray Spex,
Aaron Thompson,
Robert Görl,
Patti Smith,
The Sonics,
L. Decosne,
Lou Christie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter & Gordon,
Angry Samoans,
Sarah Menescal,
Terry Callier,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.