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 Korea North and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 clarinet 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 A Flock of Seagulls 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
The Young Rascals,
Patti Smith,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Busters,
Ultra Naté,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June Days,
Make Up,
Michelle Simonal,
Maleditus Sound,
Crime,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Andrew Hill,
Bootsy Collins,
The Blackbyrds,
Fluxion,
Pole,
Icehouse,
Model 500,
In Retrospect,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
Gong,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nas,
Second Layer,
Marvin Gaye,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Leonard Cohen,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Music Machine,
Wally Richardson,
Au Pairs,
Goldenarms,
The Knickerbockers,
Deepchord,
a-ha,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oneida,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
CMW,
Steve Hackett,
Boredoms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Easy Going,
10cc,
Flipper,
Blossom Toes,
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.