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 Belize and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
48th St. Collective,
Nico,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rosa Yemen,
Slave,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Carl Craig,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Banda Bassotti,
Kaleidoscope,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Khruangbin,
Amazonics,
Ohio Players,
Bang On A Can,
the Normal,
Warren Ellis,
Babytalk,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sarah Menescal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Martian,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
CMW,
Camouflage,
Eric Copeland,
Lindisfarne,
Tim Buckley,
Bob Dylan,
The Standells,
Fad Gadget,
Cameo,
The Durutti Column,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Delta 5,
Mo-Dettes,
Hashim,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Christie,
cv313,
Livin' Joy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Das Ding,
Joyce Sims,
MDC,
Pagans,
KRS-One,
kango's stein massive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Henry Cow,
Main Source,
the Germs,
David McCallum,
Masters at Work,
Jandek,
The Dead C,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.