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 San Marino and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 June Days to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a harpsichord 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 Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Eric Copeland,
Pussy Galore,
Minny Pops,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
The Dirtbombs,
Wally Richardson,
Model 500,
Judy Mowatt,
MC5,
Fugazi,
Boredoms,
Skarface,
Talk Talk,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
Moebius,
Groovy Waters,
Faraquet,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Roxy Music,
Technova,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Flag,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl,
Pantytec,
Jawbox,
Camberwell Now,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
Lakeside,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy Collins,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Offenders,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
Depeche Mode,
The Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
The Black Dice,
The Durutti Column,
Adolescents,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Red Krayola,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.