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 Lesotho and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fire Engines to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Flamin' Groovies,
Suicide,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mission of Burma,
The Monks,
D'Angelo,
Oneida,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Symarip,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Todd Rundgren,
New Age Steppers,
Byron Stingily,
Jacob Miller,
Isaac Hayes,
Procol Harum,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang Gang Dance,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hot Snakes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
The Slits,
Dorothy Ashby,
Henry Cow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Invisible,
PIL,
Derrick May,
Arcadia,
Zero Boys,
Gang Starr,
The Fortunes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Flag,
Technova,
Dark Day,
Drexciya,
Popol Vuh,
The Selecter,
Section 25,
Blancmange,
Sun Ra,
Porter Ricks,
John Cale,
Lyres,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
10cc,
The Black Dice,
Ornette Coleman,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.