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 Malawi and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 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 Television to the rock 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
The Modern Lovers,
Monks,
Harry Pussy,
Yusef Lateef,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
The Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gang Green,
Unwound,
The Gories,
Talk Talk,
The Kinks,
Pole,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barbara Tucker,
Pussy Galore,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
ABBA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Deadbeat,
Soft Machine,
Eric Copeland,
The Busters,
Aural Exciters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Byrd,
Kaleidoscope,
Rotary Connection,
Circle Jerks,
Audionom,
Livin' Joy,
Ronan,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
The Divine Comedy,
The Black Dice,
The Knickerbockers,
DJ Style,
Robert Hood,
Joy Division,
Sparks,
Liliput,
the Swans,
Scratch Acid,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lindisfarne,
Reagan Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Arab on Radar,
Adolescents,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
LL Cool J,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Letta Mbulu,
The Happenings,
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.