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 Thailand and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Offenders to the punk 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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vladislav Delay,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Fugs,
Rekid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
E-Dancer,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
The Knickerbockers,
a-ha,
Electric Prunes,
The Offenders,
Maurizio,
Tears for Fears,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Stooges,
Wasted Youth,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
The Residents,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
X-102,
Bush Tetras,
Davy DMX,
Alison Limerick,
Nils Olav,
Stockholm Monsters,
Susan Cadogan,
John Holt,
Banda Bassotti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
Popol Vuh,
Cybotron,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Drive Like Jehu,
DNA,
Roy Ayers,
Kenny Larkin,
Negative Approach,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
Au Pairs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Skatalites,
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
Radiohead,
Crash Course in Science,
the Soft Cell,
R.M.O.,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.