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 Malta and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Blancmange 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Brothers Johnson,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Heaven 17,
The Fall,
Scientists,
Mantronix,
Babytalk,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eric Copeland,
Thee Headcoats,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
Delta 5,
The Remains,
The Smiths,
Franke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Holt,
Smog,
Lyres,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Index,
Bill Near,
Duran Duran,
Sight & Sound,
Hashim,
Y Pants,
X-102,
Alison Limerick,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
The Red Krayola,
The Birthday Party,
Organ,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Slave,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blues Magoos,
Eli Mardock,
Mars,
Boredoms,
DJ Sneak,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pole,
PIL,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Chrome,
Model 500,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cameo,
the Bar-Kays,
Moebius,
New York Dolls,
F. McDonald,
Intrusion,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.