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 France and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Alphaville to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
Pantytec,
The Red Krayola,
Suburban Knight,
Livin' Joy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Minny Pops,
Arcadia,
Whodini,
Ituana,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wolf Eyes,
Terry Callier,
Ossler,
B.T. Express,
The Pretty Things,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog,
The Slits,
PIL,
Eric Copeland,
June of 44,
Robert Wyatt,
Connie Case,
D'Angelo,
The Vogues,
The Buckinghams,
Laurel Aitken,
Ohio Players,
Ultravox,
Mantronix,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
Fad Gadget,
Marine Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wally Richardson,
Bush Tetras,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Peter & Gordon,
Delta 5,
Delon & Dalcan,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
These Immortal Souls,
Lucky Dragons,
Technova,
Flipper,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.