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 Cyprus and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Scott Walker to the punk 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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Ohio Players,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
UT,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
The Vogues,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Stetsasonic,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Archie Shepp,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Machine,
T. Rex,
Jerry's Kids,
Bad Manners,
Pulsallama,
Thompson Twins,
Rapeman,
Das Ding,
Al Stewart,
The New Christs,
Nas,
The Slits,
the Bar-Kays,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
The Pretty Things,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Glenn Branca,
Newcleus,
Michelle Simonal,
Faust,
F. McDonald,
Barbara Tucker,
Erykah Badu,
Fatback Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dark Day,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Crime,
Smog,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Derrick May,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bronski Beat,
Tommy Roe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.