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 Colombia and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Tropical Tobacco,
Whodini,
The Fall,
Y Pants,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
Television,
Q65,
Lungfish,
Roxette,
Stereo Dub,
Trumans Water,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Public Enemy,
R.M.O.,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Masters at Work,
Talk Talk,
X-Ray Spex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New Age Steppers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
Drexciya,
the Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aloha Tigers,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
E-Dancer,
Essential Logic,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Standells,
Eve St. Jones,
Darondo,
Guru Guru,
Grey Daturas,
Spandau Ballet,
X-102,
Soulsonic Force,
kango's stein massive,
Symarip,
X-101,
Model 500,
The Golliwogs,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dave Clark Five,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül,
Josef K,
Sound Behaviour,
Warren Ellis,
Wolf Eyes,
UT,
Gabor Szabo,
Metal Thangz,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.