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 Germany and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Glenn Branca,
The Count Five,
Jerry's Kids,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
Lalann,
the Germs,
The Seeds,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Wells,
Radio Birdman,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Althea and Donna,
Johnny Clarke,
Banda Bassotti,
The Birthday Party,
Sister Nancy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tom Boy,
The Gun Club,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Malaria!,
Wings,
Scan 7,
Liliput,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Barracudas,
Cluster,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Erasure,
Moebius,
Black Sheep,
the Normal,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants,
Todd Rundgren,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Drive Like Jehu,
Joe Smooth,
Warsaw,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sonics,
Cheater Slicks,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.