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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Taipei.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Simply Red to the grime 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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Crash Course in Science,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Radio Birdman,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Lucky Dragons,
Eli Mardock,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
L. Decosne,
R.M.O.,
Janne Schatter,
The New Christs,
ABC,
Danielle Patucci,
kango's stein massive,
Skriet,
Todd Rundgren,
Lalo Schifrin,
Model 500,
Alphaville,
Lyres,
Howard Jones,
Fluxion,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Mummies,
Crispy Ambulance,
David McCallum,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dave Clark Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Henry Cow,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Monks,
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
The Victims,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cymande,
Todd Terry,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
a-ha,
Camouflage,
Mr. Review,
Symarip,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Buzzcocks,
The Young Rascals,
Ultra Naté,
X-102,
Sex Pistols,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.