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 Pakistan and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Eden Ahbez,
H. Thieme,
Marc Almond,
Scott Walker,
Procol Harum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crime,
Anthony Braxton,
Motorama,
Soul II Soul,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Don Cherry,
Ohio Players,
The Count Five,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kas Product,
The Smoke,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
The Litter,
Pussy Galore,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Boz Scaggs,
New York Dolls,
Minor Threat,
the Germs,
Blossom Toes,
Groovy Waters,
Camouflage,
Index,
Monks,
Barrington Levy,
Davy DMX,
Anakelly,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Happenings,
Bill Near,
The Leaves,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
China Crisis,
The Trojans,
Arab on Radar,
June of 44,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Vainqueur,
Franke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Amon Düül II,
Interpol,
Crooked Eye,
Heaven 17,
Rotary Connection,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.