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 Serbia and from Woodstock.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Spandau Ballet,
Byron Stingily,
DJ Style,
Hoover,
Trumans Water,
Theoretical Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Smoke,
Chrome,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fall,
Kevin Saunderson,
UT,
Stiv Bators,
48th St. Collective,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Neu!,
Faust,
Country Teasers,
Sun City Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Mo-Dettes,
The Remains,
Don Cherry,
Loose Ends,
DJ Sneak,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
New York Dolls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Yazoo,
Jerry's Kids,
Albert Ayler,
Sonic Youth,
Cymande,
Scott Walker,
Toni Rubio,
Gang Green,
Joe Smooth,
the Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Dirtbombs,
Bang On A Can,
The Blackbyrds,
Monolake,
Royal Trux,
Audionom,
China Crisis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Second Layer,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lalo Schifrin,
Magazine,
The Motions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.