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 Bhutan and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 snare 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 Main Source to the electroclash 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pole,
Circle Jerks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Eric Copeland,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Hood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
The Fall,
X-Ray Spex,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Lynne,
Skriet,
John Coltrane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Gun Club,
The Trojans,
Q and Not U,
The Cramps,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blossom Toes,
Angry Samoans,
Ultra Naté,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crispian St. Peters,
Outsiders,
Pulsallama,
Scan 7,
Heaven 17,
The Electric Prunes,
Joy Division,
Idris Muhammad,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids,
Sparks,
Au Pairs,
Mad Mike,
Kerri Chandler,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Adolescents,
Zero Boys,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
Hashim,
Derrick May,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.