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 Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 sitar 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 The United States of America to the punk 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fuzztones,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Eve St. Jones,
Talk Talk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
F. McDonald,
The United States of America,
Ten City,
The Beau Brummels,
Sight & Sound,
Joey Negro,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
Henry Cow,
Cluster,
The Monks,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Model 500,
Aural Exciters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eddi Front,
Flipper,
Isaac Hayes,
Erykah Badu,
Connie Case,
10cc,
New Order,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Prince Buster,
Depeche Mode,
The Modern Lovers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boz Scaggs,
Symarip,
Mantronix,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
New Age Steppers,
Make Up,
Youth Brigade,
Sun Ra,
James White and The Blacks,
DNA,
the Bar-Kays,
The Walker Brothers,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fela Kuti,
Gabor Szabo,
Man Parrish,
Max Romeo,
Country Teasers,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.