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 Palau and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Metal Thangz to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dave Clark Five,
ABC,
The Black Dice,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monolake,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
Q65,
Slick Rick,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Wings,
Moss Icon,
X-101,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Carl Craig,
Index,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scion,
Mr. Review,
Bobby Womack,
Kurtis Blow,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
Fatback Band,
Quantec,
Tomorrow,
Archie Shepp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fuzztones,
kango's stein massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Music Machine,
the Germs,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Doors,
Young Marble Giants,
Donald Byrd,
Rakim,
Nas,
Simply Red,
Freddie Wadling,
Arthur Verocai,
China Crisis,
Von Mondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
FM Einheit,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maurizio,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Davy DMX,
Kerrie Biddell,
Dennis Brown,
Scrapy,
Yellowson,
Sun City Girls,
Sparks,
Fat Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.