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 Egypt and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a snare 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 organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Max Romeo,
The Fortunes,
Trumans Water,
Yusef Lateef,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Barracudas,
Soul II Soul,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül II,
Marc Almond,
The Black Dice,
Steve Hackett,
The Selecter,
Q and Not U,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tears for Fears,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index,
Matthew Bourne,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June of 44,
Jandek,
The Trojans,
Radio Birdman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Erykah Badu,
Newcleus,
Ponytail,
Sällskapet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Hardrive,
Crime,
Ten City,
Letta Mbulu,
Dark Day,
Ornette Coleman,
John Lydon,
Arcadia,
Scrapy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pere Ubu,
The Walker Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Archie Shepp,
Wasted Youth,
Heaven 17,
Kevin Saunderson,
Siglo XX,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxy Music,
Leonard Cohen,
Colin Newman,
Nation of Ulysses,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aaron Thompson,
Pulsallama,
Au Pairs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.