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 Burkina and from London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Crooked Eye to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Circle Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Mr. Review,
Letta Mbulu,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Almond,
Roxette,
Amon Düül II,
Sly & The Family Stone,
La Düsseldorf,
Soulsonic Force,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Althea and Donna,
Adolescents,
The Neon Judgement,
ABBA,
The Selecter,
Ultravox,
a-ha,
Dawn Penn,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
The Cure,
Erasure,
Q and Not U,
Wally Richardson,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
Warsaw,
Wasted Youth,
The Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
48th St. Collective,
Tomorrow,
New Order,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Amazonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Oblivians,
Talk Talk,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
Matthew Halsall,
Thompson Twins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ice-T,
the Soft Cell,
Maleditus Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Sixth Finger,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronan,
Roxy Music,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.