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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Yellowson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
The Saints,
Moss Icon,
Little Man,
Pharoah Sanders,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Wells,
Tears for Fears,
Jesper Dahlback,
Underground Resistance,
Cecil Taylor,
Banda Bassotti,
The Electric Prunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Juan Atkins,
Half Japanese,
Sun City Girls,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
Angry Samoans,
Jeff Lynne,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
The Wake,
Eric Copeland,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
The Gun Club,
Erasure,
The Leaves,
Harmonia,
Neil Young,
Audionom,
cv313,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Near,
Saccharine Trust,
Blake Baxter,
Shoche,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Order,
Tom Boy,
Con Funk Shun,
The Martian,
Derrick Morgan,
Fluxion,
Barry Ungar,
Bluetip,
The Zeros,
The United States of America,
The Divine Comedy,
Tommy Roe,
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.