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 Togo and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Black Bananas 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Mr. Review,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yaz,
The Dirtbombs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soulsonic Force,
The Buckinghams,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
MC5,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Henry Cow,
Intrusion,
The Trojans,
Moby Grape,
The Grass Roots,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti,
Terry Callier,
Tres Demented,
Franke,
Letta Mbulu,
the Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Outsiders,
Talk Talk,
Avey Tare,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slave,
Reagan Youth,
Agent Orange,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Clarke,
Fad Gadget,
Interpol,
Eric Copeland,
The Black Dice,
Essential Logic,
Von Mondo,
Laurel Aitken,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Sarah Menescal,
Panda Bear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Holt,
Scratch Acid,
Circle Jerks,
Angry Samoans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soft Cell,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.