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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 OOIOO to the jazz 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Black Sheep,
Harry Pussy,
Dave Gahan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heaven 17,
Subhumans,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Sarah Menescal,
EPMD,
Black Pus,
The Offenders,
Archie Shepp,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Newcleus,
Althea and Donna,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Slits,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kenny Larkin,
June of 44,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nils Olav,
World's Most,
Nik Kershaw,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Television,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T,
Oblivians,
The Happenings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Marcia Griffiths,
Juan Atkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mission of Burma,
Maurizio,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aswad,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Jeru the Damaja,
Howard Jones,
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Gun Club,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bob Dylan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Tears for Fears,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rakim,
Faraquet,
Lower 48,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.