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 Albania and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk 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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
Monolake,
Donald Byrd,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amazonics,
Jeff Mills,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Masters at Work,
The Leaves,
James White and The Blacks,
Metal Thangz,
Mr. Review,
Shuggie Otis,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Colin Newman,
The Gap Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Hot Snakes,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Soft Machine,
The Red Krayola,
Liliput,
Delta 5,
Black Flag,
Cluster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Moebius,
Sonic Youth,
The Knickerbockers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Tears for Fears,
Electric Prunes,
The American Breed,
10cc,
Franke,
The Moleskins,
The Index,
The Buckinghams,
Dawn Penn,
Harmonia,
Joe Smooth,
A Certain Ratio,
Neu!,
Jacob Miller,
Loose Ends,
John Lydon,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
DNA,
Anthony Braxton,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
The Human League,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.