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 Venezuela and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Aaron Thompson,
John Lydon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marvin Gaye,
Robert Hood,
Vladislav Delay,
The Remains,
The Busters,
Fatback Band,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Camberwell Now,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Gap Band,
Deakin,
Stetsasonic,
Section 25,
Quadrant,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
The Beau Brummels,
Duran Duran,
EPMD,
Faraquet,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
Camouflage,
The Gladiators,
Warsaw,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Robert Wyatt,
Scratch Acid,
Dave Gahan,
Livin' Joy,
Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alphaville,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dual Sessions,
Laurel Aitken,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rufus Thomas,
This Heat,
New York Dolls,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
ABC,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Machine,
Radio Birdman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.