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 Denmark and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Red Krayola 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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All cv313 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 a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Depeche Mode,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Hood,
Charles Mingus,
Wire,
the Human League,
John Lydon,
Mark Hollis,
X-101,
Zero Boys,
Bang On A Can,
Magazine,
Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
CMW,
Rites of Spring,
Siglo XX,
Eurythmics,
The Star Department,
Eve St. Jones,
the Normal,
Altered Images,
Cymande,
Whodini,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
Main Source,
Fluxion,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
The Birthday Party,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mr. Review,
Black Sheep,
Audionom,
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
The Buckinghams,
K-Klass,
Letta Mbulu,
Mars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Janne Schatter,
Arab on Radar,
Eric Copeland,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Scientists,
China Crisis,
Ice-T,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Gang Dance,
Desert Stars,
Lakeside,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.