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 Estonia and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Althea and Donna,
Depeche Mode,
Bang On A Can,
Nas,
La Düsseldorf,
Neil Young,
The Fortunes,
The Gladiators,
The Doors,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joy Division,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Walker Brothers,
Camouflage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
The New Christs,
Chris Corsano,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cymande,
Big Daddy Kane,
Metal Thangz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Toni Rubio,
Hashim,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scientists,
Cameo,
The Beau Brummels,
EPMD,
The Residents,
the Sonics,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn,
John Foxx,
The Seeds,
David McCallum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kenny Larkin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Red Krayola,
Maleditus Sound,
Khruangbin,
Rites of Spring,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
kango's stein massive,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.