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 Philippines and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Silicon Teens to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Gichy Dan,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Moon,
Connie Case,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mr. Review,
Swell Maps,
Funkadelic,
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
Country Teasers,
the Sonics,
PIL,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Lou Christie,
Thee Headcoats,
John Cale,
The Black Dice,
Aswad,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ludus,
Can,
Avey Tare,
The Associates,
Rekid,
Bluetip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Sherman,
Agent Orange,
Soul Sonic Force,
Big Daddy Kane,
Trumans Water,
Bronski Beat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Whodini,
Surgeon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
Nirvana,
The Gories,
Gabor Szabo,
Unrelated Segments,
The Leaves,
Mission of Burma,
The United States of America,
Pulsallama,
Morten Harket,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ituana,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.