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 Malta and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Pere Ubu to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Crispy Ambulance,
F. McDonald,
Japan,
Kaleidoscope,
Index,
Boredoms,
The Litter,
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
Yellowson,
Country Teasers,
Heaven 17,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Martian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
Wasted Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
New Order,
Robert Görl,
The Skatalites,
Chrome,
The Grass Roots,
The Red Krayola,
Drexciya,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ronan,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Prince Buster,
Magma,
Hashim,
One Last Wish,
Television Personalities,
The Offenders,
Eli Mardock,
Maurizio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Spoonie Gee,
Joe Finger,
The Remains,
The Moleskins,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
LL Cool J,
the Soft Cell,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Motions,
Rosa Yemen,
The United States of America,
Goldenarms,
Guru Guru,
Banda Bassotti,
Tomorrow,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Aural Exciters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Unwound,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.