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 Singapore and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marc Almond to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
X-Ray Spex,
Jawbox,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pole,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mr. Review,
Roxy Music,
MDC,
The Last Poets,
Henry Cow,
Guru Guru,
Accadde A,
Johnny Clarke,
Ituana,
Saccharine Trust,
Prince Buster,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Flag,
Zapp,
Dave Gahan,
Hardrive,
The Blues Magoos,
K-Klass,
The Neon Judgement,
Pierre Henry,
The Raincoats,
Bill Wells,
Make Up,
The Smiths,
The Modern Lovers,
Fluxion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Boredoms,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mark Hollis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yazoo,
Malaria!,
Echospace,
Soul II Soul,
Funky Four + One,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Motorama,
Roger Hodgson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sound Behaviour,
Bush Tetras,
Lyres,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Walker Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ken Boothe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.