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 San Marino and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Warsaw to the punk 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Banda Bassotti,
Jawbox,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ten City,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Kinks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tubeway Army,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mission of Burma,
Matthew Bourne,
Das Ding,
X-Ray Spex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
FM Einheit,
Tres Demented,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
The Walker Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
New York Dolls,
Nas,
Black Moon,
Adolescents,
U.S. Maple,
Ice-T,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marc Almond,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Interpol,
10cc,
Minor Threat,
New Order,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thompson Twins,
Ponytail,
Funkadelic,
Mary Jane Girls,
Andrew Hill,
The Trojans,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sandy B,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Piero Umiliani,
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
Max Romeo,
Loose Ends,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.