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 France and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 the Germs to the disco 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Ultravox,
Derrick Morgan,
Saccharine Trust,
The New Christs,
The Young Rascals,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Letta Mbulu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Matthew Bourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
EPMD,
Tommy Roe,
Negative Approach,
Shoche,
the Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Fad Gadget,
T. Rex,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
Desert Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kurtis Blow,
The Index,
Roger Hodgson,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Piero Umiliani,
Danielle Patucci,
X-102,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Foxx,
The Blues Magoos,
Essential Logic,
The Count Five,
Deepchord,
The Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
Swans,
Pantaleimon,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Cymande,
Nirvana,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Joe Finger,
The Leaves,
Absolute Body Control,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Nas,
Television,
Ultimate Spinach,
Section 25,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.