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 Macedonia and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Techniques to the grunge 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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Lydon,
Slick Rick,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
The Angels of Light,
Donald Byrd,
The Dead C,
Janne Schatter,
Severed Heads,
Das Ding,
Lakeside,
Isaac Hayes,
Darondo,
David McCallum,
Albert Ayler,
June Days,
Marvin Gaye,
Flash Fearless,
The Gun Club,
Donny Hathaway,
Bush Tetras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Dawn Penn,
Maurizio,
Minnie Riperton,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
Soulsonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Duran Duran,
Thee Headcoats,
Gichy Dan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Graham Central Station,
Eve St. Jones,
Erykah Badu,
Jandek,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sarah Menescal,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Simply Red,
Judy Mowatt,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Slits,
John Cale,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.