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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke 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 '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 The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Q and Not U,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Association,
Adolescents,
Goldenarms,
Arab on Radar,
Ituana,
Sex Pistols,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Toni Rubio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Blues Magoos,
Trumans Water,
Audionom,
Wolf Eyes,
Hot Snakes,
48th St. Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Schoolly D,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pierre Henry,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Agent Orange,
MC5,
Slave,
Boz Scaggs,
Althea and Donna,
Harry Pussy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pere Ubu,
ABBA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Zeros,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Procol Harum,
Suicide,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronan,
a-ha,
Sight & Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxy Music,
Masters at Work,
David McCallum,
Sun Ra,
Ronnie Foster,
Popol Vuh,
Depeche Mode,
Camouflage,
New York Dolls,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Moebius,
EPMD,
Simply Red,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.