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 Saudi Arabia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Barracudas to the jazz 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
John Cale,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Stooges,
The Alarm Clocks,
Slick Rick,
OOIOO,
Howard Jones,
Girls At Our Best!,
Smog,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cybotron,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cal Tjader,
Yusef Lateef,
Eurythmics,
Marine Girls,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Mark Hollis,
Surgeon,
the Germs,
Kas Product,
LL Cool J,
Crispian St. Peters,
Magazine,
Sparks,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter & Gordon,
Bush Tetras,
The Techniques,
Ponytail,
Gong,
Davy DMX,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Moby Grape,
Harry Pussy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
the Bar-Kays,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Livin' Joy,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Inner City,
Sällskapet,
Ludus,
The Slits,
The Misunderstood,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.