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 New Zealand and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the funk 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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Red Lorry Yellow Lorry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
James White and The Blacks,
Ice-T,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Aswad,
The Barracudas,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
The Selecter,
Joe Smooth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Television,
Excepter,
Cluster,
This Heat,
D'Angelo,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Christie,
Unwound,
Dawn Penn,
Jesper Dahlback,
World's Most,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scan 7,
Steve Hackett,
Ornette Coleman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
Lyres,
Surgeon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sixth Finger,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans,
Tears for Fears,
The Neon Judgement,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cal Tjader,
Vainqueur,
Unrelated Segments,
Graham Central Station,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amazonics,
Grey Daturas,
Shuggie Otis,
Urselle,
Moss Icon,
Rites of Spring,
Skriet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket, Morten Harket.
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.