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 Maldives and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Pole to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield 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?
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
Pharoah Sanders,
Visage,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rosa Yemen,
One Last Wish,
Derrick May,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Metal Thangz,
Flipper,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fugazi,
Eve St. Jones,
Banda Bassotti,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
Eden Ahbez,
Tim Buckley,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
The Sound,
Neu!,
Pussy Galore,
The Cure,
Drexciya,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Dawn Penn,
Easy Going,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
Newcleus,
Tres Demented,
Moebius,
Fela Kuti,
Smog,
DJ Style,
Motorama,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Real Kids,
Theoretical Girls,
Al Stewart,
Rotary Connection,
Intrusion,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
48th St. Collective,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Flash Fearless,
Radiohead,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Human League,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.