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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aural Exciters to the disco 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Magma,
Kurtis Blow,
Thee Headcoats,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Q65,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
Erasure,
Faust,
Hasil Adkins,
Bang On A Can,
Sight & Sound,
Alphaville,
Fugazi,
The Searchers,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Golliwogs,
Camouflage,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Don Cherry,
Cheater Slicks,
Flipper,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bauhaus,
Junior Murvin,
a-ha,
Avey Tare,
Chris Corsano,
Liliput,
Newcleus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scan 7,
Essential Logic,
Black Sheep,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeff Lynne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
June Days,
ABBA,
Iggy Pop,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Infiniti,
The Dirtbombs,
Procol Harum,
Con Funk Shun,
X-101,
UT,
Tommy Roe,
MDC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Residents,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Grass Roots,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.