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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Alice Coltrane to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Monolake tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Quando Quango,
Nico,
The Cure,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
the Germs,
Royal Trux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Glenn Branca,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fifty Foot Hose,
David Axelrod,
Ronnie Foster,
David Bowie,
Rotary Connection,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tommy Roe,
John Cale,
Ponytail,
Joyce Sims,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joe Finger,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalann,
F. McDonald,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sonic Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Basic Channel,
Goldenarms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fuzztones,
Erasure,
World's Most,
Derrick Morgan,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
The Offenders,
The Grass Roots,
Marvin Gaye,
Ten City,
Sandy B,
PIL,
Negative Approach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Flamin' Groovies,
Average White Band,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.