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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mo-Dettes to the crunk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Motions,
New Age Steppers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Leonard Cohen,
DNA,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Theoretical Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
James White and The Blacks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slick Rick,
Aloha Tigers,
Laurel Aitken,
Agitation Free,
Organ,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
The Gladiators,
Magma,
ABC,
FM Einheit,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ponytail,
Rod Modell,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oneida,
Reuben Wilson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dave Gahan,
Lucky Dragons,
Delta 5,
The New Christs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Livin' Joy,
cv313,
The Monochrome Set,
Banda Bassotti,
The Moody Blues,
The Durutti Column,
La Düsseldorf,
Ice-T,
Ronnie Foster,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Swans,
The Martian,
Alice Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
The Red Krayola,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Little Man,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Animal Collective,
Eve St. Jones,
Moebius,
Althea and Donna,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.