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 Thailand and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Golliwogs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Section 25,
Aloha Tigers,
Vainqueur,
Juan Atkins,
Fela Kuti,
Ice-T,
Faust,
Talk Talk,
Rites of Spring,
The Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
The Pop Group,
The Mummies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Seeds,
The Barracudas,
Judy Mowatt,
X-102,
Arthur Verocai,
Skarface,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lyres,
Grauzone,
Urselle,
Todd Terry,
Warsaw,
John Cale,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
Underground Resistance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mr. Review,
Arab on Radar,
The Music Machine,
Eddi Front,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hot Snakes,
Skaos,
the Soft Cell,
Mad Mike,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Duran Duran,
Sonic Youth,
Buzzcocks,
Brass Construction,
Make Up,
Infiniti,
Gichy Dan,
The Monochrome Set,
The Raincoats,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.