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 Jordan 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bill Wells to the dance 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Stooges record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Prince Buster,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
The Barracudas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Todd Rundgren,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Visage,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deakin,
Skaos,
Gang of Four,
Dead Boys,
The Dead C,
Sun Ra,
Carl Craig,
Gregory Isaacs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Motorama,
Toni Rubio,
Harmonia,
Chris & Cosey,
Pole,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sound Behaviour,
H. Thieme,
Blancmange,
The Birthday Party,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
Urselle,
X-101,
Can,
Audionom,
Sonic Youth,
Heaven 17,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Second Layer,
Iggy Pop,
Ultravox,
Grey Daturas,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cure,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rod Modell,
Echospace,
The Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Shoche,
the Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Busters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.