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 Latvia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 a-ha to the jazz 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Happenings,
Bob Dylan,
F. McDonald,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare,
Grauzone,
Suicide,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
The Gun Club,
Gang Starr,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June of 44,
Piero Umiliani,
Scan 7,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Newcleus,
The Gories,
Nation of Ulysses,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
Saccharine Trust,
The Evens,
Country Teasers,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Moon,
Brothers Johnson,
The Kinks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Absolute Body Control,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Con Funk Shun,
Royal Trux,
Niagra,
Scientists,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
The Monochrome Set,
Pere Ubu,
H. Thieme,
Maleditus Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
Agitation Free,
The Martian,
The Leaves,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Trojans,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ossler,
Connie Case,
Lebanon Hanover,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Infiniti,
X-Ray Spex,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.