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 Benin and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 The Doors to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Faust,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed,
June of 44,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sixth Finger,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage,
Idris Muhammad,
Joyce Sims,
Pole,
Vladislav Delay,
Dawn Penn,
James White and The Blacks,
A Certain Ratio,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
Con Funk Shun,
Blossom Toes,
The Star Department,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
Black Pus,
Ituana,
The Last Poets,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Supertramp,
Joey Negro,
Slave,
Y Pants,
Joensuu 1685,
Aaron Thompson,
Massinfluence,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dirtbombs,
Pere Ubu,
Organ,
Sam Rivers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Henry Cow,
Colin Newman,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
Nirvana,
Soft Machine,
Robert Görl,
The Gladiators,
Tres Demented,
Chris Corsano,
Newcleus,
These Immortal Souls,
The Searchers,
Barry Ungar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.