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 Fiji and from Manila.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 U.S. Maple to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Gong,
Heaven 17,
Intrusion,
Glenn Branca,
Vladislav Delay,
Stetsasonic,
The Toasters,
Moss Icon,
Morten Harket,
Amon Düül,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Quadrant,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Stooges,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
Severed Heads,
Jawbox,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pantytec,
The Blues Magoos,
Rotary Connection,
Rosa Yemen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Slits,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lakeside,
Marmalade,
Joensuu 1685,
Sun Ra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fugs,
Drexciya,
Youth Brigade,
T. Rex,
Dave Gahan,
Wasted Youth,
MDC,
Popol Vuh,
Ronnie Foster,
Jacques Brel,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Scientists,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.