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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the organ 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 Depeche Mode to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Surgeon,
Black Moon,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Slackers,
The Knickerbockers,
The Moody Blues,
Pere Ubu,
Lucky Dragons,
Fatback Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Unrelated Segments,
Lindisfarne,
Procol Harum,
Ornette Coleman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spoonie Gee,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra,
Camouflage,
Bill Wells,
Wasted Youth,
Graham Central Station,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
The Gories,
Peter and Kerry,
The Selecter,
Idris Muhammad,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang of Four,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Audionom,
MDC,
The Victims,
The Doors,
Ludus,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
a-ha,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bootsy Collins,
Monks,
The Dead C,
The Sonics,
Scientists,
Absolute Body Control,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gap Band,
Radiohead,
Kenny Larkin,
Marc Almond,
Bad Manners,
Fluxion,
Lungfish,
The Neon Judgement,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.