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 Finland and from Mexico City.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Throbbing Gristle to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Darondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Black Moon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cybotron,
Amazonics,
Radio Birdman,
Neil Young,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nas,
Minnie Riperton,
Morten Harket,
The Birthday Party,
David Axelrod,
The Litter,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Audionom,
Throbbing Gristle,
One Last Wish,
Pierre Henry,
The Residents,
Ice-T,
Wings,
The Slackers,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Television,
Nils Olav,
Robert Wyatt,
Tubeway Army,
the Germs,
Wally Richardson,
Lou Christie,
Model 500,
Gregory Isaacs,
June of 44,
Whodini,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crime,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
Rosa Yemen,
John Coltrane,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Y Pants,
Depeche Mode,
Fluxion,
Gong,
This Heat,
AZ,
Con Funk Shun,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.