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 Albania and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anthony Braxton,
Cecil Taylor,
Sällskapet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Altered Images,
The Young Rascals,
Public Enemy,
Whodini,
Dave Gahan,
The Busters,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Interpol,
Smog,
Inner City,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Byrd,
Lungfish,
This Heat,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Theoretical Girls,
10cc,
Hoover,
Black Flag,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Happenings,
DNA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Womack,
June of 44,
Skarface,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Nas,
Mars,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joensuu 1685,
Bad Manners,
The Fuzztones,
Funkadelic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sister Nancy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bauhaus,
Liliput,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Iggy Pop,
The Beau Brummels,
Kurtis Blow,
China Crisis,
Minnie Riperton,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.