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 Liechtenstein and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Infiniti to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Gang Dance,
X-102,
Ituana,
ABBA,
Essential Logic,
Slave,
Bizarre Inc.,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mandrill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Suicide,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Shuggie Otis,
Khruangbin,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
Unwound,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
The Blackbyrds,
Toni Rubio,
Visage,
LL Cool J,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Angry Samoans,
Rufus Thomas,
Moebius,
Wings,
Japan,
the Soft Cell,
Altered Images,
Fatback Band,
The Fall,
Harry Pussy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
The Human League,
The Smiths,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Barracudas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
B.T. Express,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Colin Newman,
Symarip,
Black Flag,
Marcia Griffiths,
Severed Heads,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.