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 Singapore and from Delhi.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 Steve Hackett to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Durutti Column,
The Red Krayola,
Dennis Brown,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minor Threat,
The Wake,
Rufus Thomas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kenny Larkin,
The Young Rascals,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
New Order,
Make Up,
The Fortunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sam Rivers,
Alice Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
The Residents,
ABC,
Lindisfarne,
Rekid,
Technova,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Severed Heads,
The Techniques,
Sandy B,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gun Club,
The Grass Roots,
F. McDonald,
Boz Scaggs,
Joe Finger,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Juan Atkins,
The Smoke,
Cecil Taylor,
Ten City,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Procol Harum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erasure,
Aural Exciters,
Mr. Review,
Parry Music,
John Lydon,
X-102,
Soft Cell,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.