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 Chile and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 T.S.O.L. to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Q and Not U,
Royal Trux,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
the Germs,
Mission of Burma,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Slackers,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
Deadbeat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roger Hodgson,
Theoretical Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Panda Bear,
Anakelly,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
These Immortal Souls,
Electric Prunes,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Quantec,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
ABC,
Mantronix,
Fear,
Suicide,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scan 7,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
Bauhaus,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
Colin Newman,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
Cybotron,
New Order,
Agent Orange,
Josef K,
The Evens,
Khruangbin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yellowson,
Grauzone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
Donny Hathaway,
Sparks,
Masters at Work,
Trumans Water,
Dave Gahan,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.