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 Benin and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sex Pistols 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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Swell Maps,
Dennis Brown,
Jacques Brel,
Colin Newman,
Gang of Four,
Tim Buckley,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scratch Acid,
Franke,
Jawbox,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Searchers,
The Music Machine,
The Names,
Juan Atkins,
Nick Fraelich,
Soft Cell,
Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ronnie Foster,
Dark Day,
Television Personalities,
Wings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
LL Cool J,
David Axelrod,
Little Man,
The Mummies,
Black Flag,
Dave Gahan,
Eden Ahbez,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brick,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang Gang Dance,
T.S.O.L.,
Make Up,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Niagra,
Grey Daturas,
The Fall,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
Lakeside,
Trumans Water,
Michelle Simonal,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Minnie Riperton,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Loose Ends,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.