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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 organ 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 Marc Almond to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Cheater Slicks,
Easy Going,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quantec,
Agitation Free,
Sam Rivers,
Maurizio,
Wasted Youth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultravox,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amon Düül,
Youth Brigade,
Funky Four + One,
Arab on Radar,
The J.B.'s,
Altered Images,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
Flipper,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
Wolf Eyes,
ABBA,
John Coltrane,
Josef K,
Reagan Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
Jawbox,
Minny Pops,
Robert Hood,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Unrelated Segments,
Thompson Twins,
Newcleus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eric Copeland,
Faust,
Animal Collective,
The Seeds,
The Black Dice,
Vladislav Delay,
Soul Sonic Force,
Metal Thangz,
Bush Tetras,
Severed Heads,
Pole,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.