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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Cheater Slicks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mission of Burma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Urselle,
Marmalade,
Au Pairs,
Wolf Eyes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
the Normal,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gabor Szabo,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Misunderstood,
Loose Ends,
Pere Ubu,
Visage,
Man Parrish,
Q and Not U,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moody Blues,
Icehouse,
10cc,
Jerry's Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Zero Boys,
Magma,
The Saints,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Circle Jerks,
Negative Approach,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
Warren Ellis,
Chrome,
Deepchord,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
Goldenarms,
Electric Prunes,
The Fugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bluetip,
John Lydon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shoche,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Vainqueur,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Foxx,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.