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 St Lucia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the punk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hasil Adkins,
Massinfluence,
Sandy B,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alphaville,
Alison Limerick,
Laurel Aitken,
Blancmange,
Amon Düül II,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Eurythmics,
David Bowie,
Matthew Halsall,
The Misunderstood,
Morten Harket,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aswad,
Sparks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skriet,
Severed Heads,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Pretty Things,
Barry Ungar,
X-Ray Spex,
The Associates,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
Sonic Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grey Daturas,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Flipper,
Alice Coltrane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yellowson,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Livin' Joy,
Goldenarms,
Magma,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Metal Thangz,
One Last Wish,
Avey Tare,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monks,
Bobby Womack,
Maurizio,
PIL,
The Fall,
Lalo Schifrin,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.