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 Dominica and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Eli Mardock 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
The Gun Club,
Rites of Spring,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Grandmaster Flash,
Carl Craig,
Youth Brigade,
Intrusion,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stiv Bators,
The Divine Comedy,
Tom Boy,
Brick,
Spandau Ballet,
James White and The Blacks,
Derrick Morgan,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
T. Rex,
Sandy B,
Colin Newman,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Evens,
Silicon Teens,
Nils Olav,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Style,
Monolake,
Japan,
Blancmange,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
48th St. Collective,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fatback Band,
Simply Red,
ABC,
Kaleidoscope,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fugs,
Massinfluence,
The Slits,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Organ,
Jeru the Damaja,
In Retrospect,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bauhaus,
Newcleus,
The Fire Engines,
Dark Day,
Popol Vuh,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
the Association,
Thee Headcoats,
The Zeros,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.