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 Sri Lanka and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 New Order to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
This Heat,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Minnie Riperton,
Bluetip,
Terry Callier,
Supertramp,
The Modern Lovers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
L. Decosne,
Outsiders,
Terrestrial Tones,
Au Pairs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
Glenn Branca,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
D'Angelo,
The Knickerbockers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacob Miller,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
Kerrie Biddell,
Byron Stingily,
Roxette,
Monolake,
Monks,
Matthew Halsall,
Alice Coltrane,
Amon Düül,
Cybotron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Das Ding,
Simply Red,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Index,
The Flesh Eaters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
The Cure,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Blossom Toes,
Y Pants,
Second Layer,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry's Kids,
Judy Mowatt,
Todd Rundgren,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.