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 Tanzania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Lalann,
Whodini,
Monolake,
Rod Modell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Smog,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Normal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Royal Trux,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Skarface,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Little Man,
Desert Stars,
Duran Duran,
Suicide,
Agitation Free,
The Pop Group,
The Happenings,
Pantaleimon,
Barbara Tucker,
The Toasters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bobby Womack,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Blackbyrds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spoonie Gee,
Arab on Radar,
The Vogues,
Skaos,
Talk Talk,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Echospace,
Circle Jerks,
DNA,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
The Five Americans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Darondo,
Radio Birdman,
The Mojo Men,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Axelrod,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
48th St. Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Supertramp,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.