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 Germany and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mummies to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Blossom Toes,
Excepter,
Bad Manners,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joe Finger,
Hashim,
Organ,
Roger Hodgson,
James White and The Blacks,
Country Teasers,
Funkadelic,
Marine Girls,
the Germs,
Cheater Slicks,
Section 25,
The Gories,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Hill,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiohead,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Lydon,
Ten City,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Black Dice,
Althea and Donna,
Moby Grape,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sun Ra,
Reagan Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Parrish,
CMW,
Warren Ellis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pere Ubu,
Wolf Eyes,
DJ Sneak,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gong,
Slave,
Monolake,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Yusef Lateef,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Grass Roots,
The Real Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
Curtis Mayfield,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
Icehouse,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.