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 Columbus.
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 Lyon and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Con Funk Shun to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Wolf Eyes,
The Real Kids,
Franke,
Alison Limerick,
Mandrill,
Black Bananas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
New Order,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
Todd Terry,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Angry Samoans,
Patti Smith,
Youth Brigade,
Skaos,
Eli Mardock,
Kenny Larkin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
ABBA,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Silicon Teens,
Rufus Thomas,
Iggy Pop,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Trumans Water,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days,
Nico,
Althea and Donna,
Clear Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
U.S. Maple,
A Certain Ratio,
The Victims,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hardrive,
The Detroit Cobras,
DJ Sneak,
Chris Corsano,
Barry Ungar,
Slave,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
The Beau Brummels,
Livin' Joy,
B.T. Express,
David Axelrod,
Jandek,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.