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 Tuvalu and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 James White and The Blacks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Black Sheep,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
The Doors,
The United States of America,
Kurtis Blow,
Zapp,
Cal Tjader,
Jawbox,
Morten Harket,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Freddie Wadling,
Ituana,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Khruangbin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gichy Dan,
Harmonia,
Masters at Work,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anthony Braxton,
Aaron Thompson,
John Foxx,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
Fugazi,
Peter and Kerry,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru,
The Velvet Underground,
Reagan Youth,
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
June Days,
Animal Collective,
Tim Buckley,
New York Dolls,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Victims,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nik Kershaw,
The Vogues,
Jeff Mills,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rufus Thomas,
Scientists,
Jeff Lynne,
Mars,
Curtis Mayfield,
Michelle Simonal,
Ludus,
Grauzone,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
Max Romeo,
Parry Music,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish,
Visage,
the Normal,
Stereo Dub,
Simply Red,
Altered Images,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.