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 Liberia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crime to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
Dead Boys,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
H. Thieme,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
The New Christs,
Tres Demented,
Animal Collective,
Niagra,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Clear Light,
Eden Ahbez,
Black Moon,
Negative Approach,
Harmonia,
LL Cool J,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Stiv Bators,
A Certain Ratio,
Lucky Dragons,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Sheep,
Sound Behaviour,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Man Parrish,
Simply Red,
Janne Schatter,
The Smiths,
Stetsasonic,
The Trojans,
Brick,
Donald Byrd,
the Germs,
Blancmange,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bad Manners,
New Order,
Joy Division,
Malaria!,
The Count Five,
Japan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Holt,
Bobby Womack,
Moby Grape,
Piero Umiliani,
The Doors,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.