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 Belarus and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The New Christs to the techno 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Beau Brummels,
T. Rex,
Gang of Four,
The Dirtbombs,
Pagans,
Minny Pops,
Cluster,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Last Poets,
Stetsasonic,
Sam Rivers,
A Certain Ratio,
Grey Daturas,
Idris Muhammad,
Subhumans,
Audionom,
Kerri Chandler,
Hardrive,
The Doors,
Mary Jane Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
B.T. Express,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echospace,
The Leaves,
Scott Walker,
DJ Sneak,
Vladislav Delay,
Ken Boothe,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mojo Men,
Tears for Fears,
Alton Ellis,
Byron Stingily,
Tom Boy,
Q65,
Moebius,
Dave Gahan,
June of 44,
Unrelated Segments,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Angels of Light,
Minutemen,
Michelle Simonal,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
The American Breed,
Joensuu 1685,
Patti Smith,
The Techniques,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Youth Brigade,
the Human League,
The Sound,
Country Teasers,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.