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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gichy Dan to the crunk 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Animal Collective,
Gong,
Smog,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Swell Maps,
Kas Product,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
This Heat,
Livin' Joy,
Jeff Lynne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Altered Images,
The Mojo Men,
Dead Boys,
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Skaos,
Procol Harum,
Angry Samoans,
Au Pairs,
Gabor Szabo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Dead C,
Icehouse,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
B.T. Express,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Arthur Verocai,
Maurizio,
MDC,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Banda Bassotti,
AZ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Inner City,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Essential Logic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantytec,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
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.