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 Thailand and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Germs to the rock 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Mark Hollis,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
Joe Smooth,
Pagans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crooked Eye,
Lungfish,
Icehouse,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Television Personalities,
Fatback Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cybotron,
The Neon Judgement,
Pere Ubu,
Pulsallama,
Fat Boys,
New Age Steppers,
Neu!,
Thee Headcoats,
E-Dancer,
The Index,
Mary Jane Girls,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radio Birdman,
The Divine Comedy,
Rotary Connection,
Danielle Patucci,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-101,
Janne Schatter,
Bootsy Collins,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bronski Beat,
The Trojans,
Saccharine Trust,
The Cramps,
Cluster,
Wally Richardson,
Funky Four + One,
The Smoke,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
Massinfluence,
Swans,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Durutti Column,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soulsonic Force,
Rosa Yemen,
DNA,
Half Japanese,
Josef K,
Khruangbin,
Jawbox,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.