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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the dance 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
The Walker Brothers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eddi Front,
Sarah Menescal,
Don Cherry,
E-Dancer,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
John Holt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minny Pops,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bob Dylan,
Second Layer,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Buckinghams,
Visage,
The Leaves,
Country Teasers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quantec,
Shuggie Otis,
Dave Gahan,
Nick Fraelich,
The Barracudas,
Hardrive,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
Groovy Waters,
Con Funk Shun,
Hasil Adkins,
The Martian,
Basic Channel,
The Divine Comedy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fuzztones,
Letta Mbulu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mandrill,
Sam Rivers,
Eurythmics,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yusef Lateef,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Grey Daturas,
Carl Craig,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eric Copeland,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Busters,
The Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.