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 Bangladesh and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar 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 Suicide to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
John Foxx,
Barry Ungar,
ABC,
The Monks,
Jeff Mills,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
James White and The Blacks,
This Heat,
Darondo,
Accadde A,
The Young Rascals,
the Bar-Kays,
Buzzcocks,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Arcadia,
Blancmange,
Television Personalities,
Fad Gadget,
Quando Quango,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Clarke,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül II,
The Dirtbombs,
Gabor Szabo,
Brothers Johnson,
Iggy Pop,
Nick Fraelich,
The Beau Brummels,
Gang Green,
John Holt,
Suicide,
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
Pulsallama,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Sällskapet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ronan,
The Invisible,
Jacob Miller,
A Certain Ratio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Franke,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
ABBA,
Peter & Gordon,
The Human League,
X-Ray Spex,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.