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 Cyprus and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dirtbombs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Main Source,
Severed Heads,
Television,
Bronski Beat,
Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lower 48,
Jandek,
Chrome,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
Amazonics,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thee Headcoats,
Fluxion,
Adolescents,
Max Romeo,
Wings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ten City,
EPMD,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roy Ayers,
Groovy Waters,
Quantec,
A Certain Ratio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deepchord,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Names,
James White and The Blacks,
Pole,
Roxette,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultra Naté,
Funky Four + One,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare,
John Coltrane,
Grauzone,
Rekid,
Zapp,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Barry Ungar,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
Charles Mingus,
Kas Product,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gang Green,
Ludus,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.