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 Korea South 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Scott Walker to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
Make Up,
Absolute Body Control,
Danielle Patucci,
Eric Copeland,
Sonic Youth,
Dead Boys,
Alison Limerick,
Scott Walker,
Blancmange,
The Neon Judgement,
Quando Quango,
Porter Ricks,
Electric Prunes,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Skatalites,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
The Gun Club,
Quantec,
The Smiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Misunderstood,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
The Young Rascals,
Faraquet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Albert Ayler,
Underground Resistance,
Quadrant,
Erasure,
Severed Heads,
Swans,
R.M.O.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Idris Muhammad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Royal Trux,
PIL,
Con Funk Shun,
Eric B and Rakim,
A Certain Ratio,
Henry Cow,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Drexciya,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bluetip,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Evens,
F. McDonald,
Shoche,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Blake Baxter,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.