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 Libya and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe 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 Depeche Mode to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Von Mondo,
Swell Maps,
Bronski Beat,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young,
Cymande,
Procol Harum,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Bad Manners,
Zero Boys,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Siglo XX,
Urselle,
Whodini,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
Jesper Dahlback,
Toni Rubio,
Y Pants,
Sister Nancy,
Al Stewart,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scrapy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Average White Band,
Delta 5,
Rhythm & Sound,
Infiniti,
Vladislav Delay,
Roy Ayers,
Inner City,
Talk Talk,
Rod Modell,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Erasure,
Cheater Slicks,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fatback Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yellowson,
The Knickerbockers,
The United States of America,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.