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 Australia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Excepter to the disco 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fear,
Silicon Teens,
The Neon Judgement,
Rapeman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake,
Flamin' Groovies,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Graham Central Station,
Ituana,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Roxy Music,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tears for Fears,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minny Pops,
The Monks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crooked Eye,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ten City,
Simply Red,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Junior Murvin,
Television,
The Slackers,
L. Decosne,
Joyce Sims,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fela Kuti,
John Foxx,
Ronan,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
The New Christs,
Gabor Szabo,
The Modern Lovers,
Alice Coltrane,
Make Up,
Barry Ungar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Roxette,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
Lyres,
Gang Gang Dance,
Das Ding,
Minor Threat,
Donny Hathaway,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.