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 Samoa and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Velvet Underground to the techno 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marc Almond,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Bourne,
Porter Ricks,
Sonic Youth,
The Dirtbombs,
The Beau Brummels,
Symarip,
Skarface,
Severed Heads,
Peter and Kerry,
Darondo,
Eddi Front,
Flipper,
Chrome,
Ken Boothe,
Y Pants,
The Cowsills,
Young Marble Giants,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bluetip,
Heaven 17,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dennis Brown,
Public Enemy,
Soulsonic Force,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skriet,
Nils Olav,
June Days,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Seeds,
The Motions,
Circle Jerks,
June of 44,
The Grass Roots,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pussy Galore,
D'Angelo,
Fear,
Pagans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Saints,
Blancmange,
LL Cool J,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jeru the Damaja,
Frankie Knuckles,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.