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 Niger and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 ABBA to the crunk 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Quadrant,
Aural Exciters,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Buzzcocks,
Man Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
Joyce Sims,
Television,
Niagra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantaleimon,
Fluxion,
Echospace,
Colin Newman,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Erasure,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Archie Shepp,
Fela Kuti,
Tommy Roe,
Bill Wells,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Lower 48,
Reagan Youth,
The Mummies,
Wings,
Goldenarms,
Black Bananas,
The Fugs,
The Grass Roots,
Panda Bear,
June Days,
Gang Starr,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Cameo,
Johnny Clarke,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gregory Isaacs,
The New Christs,
Popol Vuh,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
In Retrospect,
Grandmaster Flash,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
F. McDonald,
Outsiders,
Guru Guru,
Ultravox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiohead,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.