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 Palau and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Graham Central Station to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Selecter,
Camouflage,
Joey Negro,
Mantronix,
Charles Mingus,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Gladiators,
Smog,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alice Coltrane,
Y Pants,
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
The Fugs,
Rosa Yemen,
The Searchers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Q and Not U,
The Knickerbockers,
The Young Rascals,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
The Music Machine,
Peter & Gordon,
Robert Wyatt,
David Bowie,
Saccharine Trust,
Altered Images,
Marmalade,
Eddi Front,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
Eden Ahbez,
Agent Orange,
Bush Tetras,
Drexciya,
The Gun Club,
Theoretical Girls,
ABC,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Royal Trux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nation of Ulysses,
The American Breed,
Half Japanese,
Black Flag,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jeff Mills,
Jacques Brel,
Cal Tjader,
Blake Baxter,
Sarah Menescal,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
The Saints,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.