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 Uzbekistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Pretty Things to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Thee Headcoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
AZ,
The Count Five,
Bad Manners,
Yellowson,
Skriet,
Tears for Fears,
John Foxx,
Erasure,
Joyce Sims,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Little Man,
The Saints,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
T. Rex,
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
Ponytail,
The Toasters,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Malaria!,
Eddi Front,
Alphaville,
Steve Hackett,
Can,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Prince Buster,
The Black Dice,
The Pop Group,
John Lydon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mr. Review,
Mission of Burma,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sparks,
PIL,
Alison Limerick,
Panda Bear,
Black Flag,
The Buckinghams,
Barry Ungar,
The Walker Brothers,
Radiohead,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Dark Day,
the Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Interpol,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Fall,
Camberwell Now,
Metal Thangz,
The Fugs,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.