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 Brunei and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Suicide to the jazz 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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Subhumans,
Ohio Players,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Arthur Verocai,
Quando Quango,
10cc,
Parry Music,
Q65,
Fad Gadget,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
Drexciya,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
The Vogues,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dennis Brown,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
H. Thieme,
the Slits,
John Coltrane,
The Pop Group,
Don Cherry,
Morten Harket,
Essential Logic,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Gories,
The Leaves,
Chris & Cosey,
Mark Hollis,
Wally Richardson,
Babytalk,
Chrome,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Cameo,
Young Marble Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
Glenn Branca,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Monks,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.