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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Faust to the dance 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Television,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
Oblivians,
OOIOO,
David Bowie,
the Germs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cluster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
Laurel Aitken,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
The Slackers,
Toni Rubio,
Public Enemy,
Alison Limerick,
Iggy Pop,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
Marmalade,
Urselle,
Sonic Youth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rites of Spring,
Lindisfarne,
Country Teasers,
Depeche Mode,
Henry Cow,
Smog,
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
Colin Newman,
ABBA,
The Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Average White Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suburban Knight,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Section 25,
Soul II Soul,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Cell,
Mad Mike,
Pylon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Barrington Levy,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.