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 China and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Newcleus to the rock 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Minor Threat,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Slits,
Graham Central Station,
This Heat,
Darondo,
Heaven 17,
Prince Buster,
Dead Boys,
The Zeros,
Dorothy Ashby,
James Chance & The Contortions,
L. Decosne,
Susan Cadogan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mission of Burma,
Fat Boys,
Howard Jones,
The Selecter,
The Golliwogs,
Babytalk,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eric Copeland,
The Blues Magoos,
Brand Nubian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dark Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tommy Roe,
cv313,
DJ Style,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott Heron,
Johnny Osbourne,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Animal Collective,
Girls At Our Best!,
Guru Guru,
the Association,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wolf Eyes,
Stetsasonic,
Depeche Mode,
Second Layer,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sex Pistols,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Underground Resistance,
The Electric Prunes,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
The New Christs,
Fad Gadget,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
CMW,
June of 44,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.