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 Guatemala and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Modern Lovers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Delta 5,
The Fuzztones,
Saccharine Trust,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Martian,
Ituana,
Jandek,
Sex Pistols,
Grauzone,
Alton Ellis,
Michelle Simonal,
Danielle Patucci,
Davy DMX,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Television,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bronski Beat,
Joe Finger,
Ten City,
Aural Exciters,
Scion,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q and Not U,
Tres Demented,
The Skatalites,
Liliput,
Slave,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
Easy Going,
Patti Smith,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soul II Soul,
The Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Donny Hathaway,
Bad Manners,
The Dirtbombs,
Morten Harket,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Outsiders,
Trumans Water,
Mr. Review,
Ohio Players,
Eden Ahbez,
Altered Images,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nirvana,
Rosa Yemen,
Shoche,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Suicide,
The Index,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.