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 Kosovo and from Bologna.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scrapy to the rap 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
The Skatalites,
Soft Machine,
Fear,
Donald Byrd,
Duran Duran,
Brothers Johnson,
Henry Cow,
Jandek,
Soul II Soul,
The Durutti Column,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
Alton Ellis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mad Mike,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Subhumans,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Parry Music,
Dawn Penn,
Lee Hazlewood,
Graham Central Station,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
The Beau Brummels,
The Kinks,
Technova,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Bronski Beat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Underground Resistance,
Davy DMX,
Public Enemy,
Magazine,
Swans,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
Franke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers,
Eric Dolphy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
H. Thieme,
Quando Quango,
Lakeside,
Kerri Chandler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Skriet,
Loose Ends,
John Foxx,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Evens,
Average White Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Scott Walker,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.