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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the crunk 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Grass Roots,
Radiohead,
Organ,
Don Cherry,
Agent Orange,
Brass Construction,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABC,
Angry Samoans,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Move,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
James White and The Blacks,
the Bar-Kays,
Prince Buster,
Porter Ricks,
Chrome,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Half Japanese,
Scratch Acid,
Mad Mike,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cheater Slicks,
Pole,
Crime,
Marc Almond,
The Count Five,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smoke,
Q65,
Swans,
Blossom Toes,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Mills,
A Certain Ratio,
Amazonics,
Newcleus,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moby Grape,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rakim,
Q and Not U,
Smog,
the Association,
the Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
The Kinks,
Joe Finger,
the Swans,
Rekid,
Easy Going,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
Bluetip,
The Star Department,
The Standells,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.