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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 a rhodes and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nick Fraelich,
Jerry's Kids,
Don Cherry,
Idris Muhammad,
Popol Vuh,
Smog,
The Star Department,
Warren Ellis,
Sight & Sound,
Quadrant,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
PIL,
Bobby Womack,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Procol Harum,
Moss Icon,
Pantaleimon,
Black Flag,
The Litter,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Slackers,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fear,
Radiohead,
Todd Rundgren,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gladiators,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Steve Hackett,
The United States of America,
Fugazi,
The Neon Judgement,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glenn Branca,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Bar-Kays,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultra Naté,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gichy Dan,
Byron Stingily,
Los Fastidios,
Crash Course in Science,
Skaos,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.