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 Montenegro and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Roxy Music to the disco 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Morten Harket,
Gastr Del Sol,
Second Layer,
Flipper,
Tubeway Army,
The Fortunes,
Outsiders,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Human League,
Blake Baxter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Country Teasers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Durutti Column,
The Music Machine,
Dennis Brown,
Chris Corsano,
Jacques Brel,
Sixth Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Byron Stingily,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
The Seeds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Aural Exciters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Yazoo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
8 Eyed Spy,
Surgeon,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Lydon,
Bob Dylan,
Popol Vuh,
Angry Samoans,
The Five Americans,
cv313,
Vainqueur,
Bad Manners,
D'Angelo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Blancmange,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boredoms,
Das Ding,
Symarip,
David Bowie,
Quando Quango,
Kenny Larkin,
The Moleskins,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.