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 St Kitts & Nevis and from London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Patti Smith,
H. Thieme,
The Walker Brothers,
Yazoo,
The Gories,
Basic Channel,
Organ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
The Real Kids,
The Barracudas,
Sandy B,
Roxette,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
The Young Rascals,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fatback Band,
Nico,
Icehouse,
Magazine,
Maleditus Sound,
The United States of America,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Massinfluence,
Don Cherry,
Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Star Department,
New Order,
Lucky Dragons,
The Buckinghams,
Tubeway Army,
Aural Exciters,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Vogues,
Darondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tears for Fears,
The Velvet Underground,
Procol Harum,
The Moody Blues,
Kerri Chandler,
The Modern Lovers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Letta Mbulu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Porter Ricks,
Gang Green,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Divine Comedy,
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.