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 Liechtenstein and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Public Enemy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Can,
T. Rex,
Tom Boy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
World's Most,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Christie,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Bob Dylan,
Motorama,
the Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kerrie Biddell,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Suicide,
The Sonics,
Harmonia,
Man Parrish,
E-Dancer,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nirvana,
Faust,
David Axelrod,
The Cramps,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jawbox,
Schoolly D,
The Slackers,
Goldenarms,
Marine Girls,
Moebius,
LL Cool J,
Iggy Pop,
Flipper,
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Subhumans,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Fraelich,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vainqueur,
Gang of Four,
Colin Newman,
Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Bill Near,
Khruangbin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul II Soul,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fat Boys,
Bauhaus,
Bronski Beat,
Mo-Dettes,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.