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 Thailand and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Nico to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Buzzcocks,
Little Man,
The Grass Roots,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
the Soft Cell,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young,
Stereo Dub,
Livin' Joy,
Porter Ricks,
Eden Ahbez,
Frankie Knuckles,
Liliput,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Dave Gahan,
Tom Boy,
Minutemen,
Sandy B,
Nirvana,
Eurythmics,
The Blues Magoos,
Kaleidoscope,
Harry Pussy,
Alice Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
Reuben Wilson,
Infiniti,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Doors,
James White and The Blacks,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Axelrod,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Index,
Radiohead,
The Human League,
Desert Stars,
The Count Five,
The Fortunes,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
MC5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
Q65,
Maleditus Sound,
Funky Four + One,
Average White Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Lou Reed,
Amon Düül II,
Tommy Roe,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.