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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Cecil Taylor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dead C,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pop Group,
Lucky Dragons,
Japan,
Barry Ungar,
Ituana,
Delta 5,
Brick,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slick Rick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
La Düsseldorf,
Glenn Branca,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
EPMD,
Bronski Beat,
Blake Baxter,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
The United States of America,
Kenny Larkin,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
Juan Atkins,
Moby Grape,
Rapeman,
Pussy Galore,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Dirtbombs,
Yaz,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Bananas,
Aswad,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Sarah Menescal,
Ornette Coleman,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Happenings,
China Crisis,
Cal Tjader,
New Order,
Sandy B,
The Shadows of Knight,
John Foxx,
Saccharine Trust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Franke,
UT,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.