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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Model 500 to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tres Demented,
Peter & Gordon,
Vainqueur,
Theoretical Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Erasure,
Avey Tare,
Maurizio,
Anakelly,
Ituana,
Hoover,
Neu!,
Blancmange,
Roxette,
The Moleskins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Pretty Things,
the Germs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
La Düsseldorf,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
New Order,
Parry Music,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
Stereo Dub,
Cecil Taylor,
The Flesh Eaters,
Section 25,
Johnny Clarke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
Dawn Penn,
The Searchers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ronnie Foster,
Joy Division,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bob Dylan,
Reagan Youth,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Cal Tjader,
Eurythmics,
John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Das Ding,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fluxion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Vogues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Henry Cow,
Deakin,
Todd Terry,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.