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 Italy and from Woodstock.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pantytec to the jazz 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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
Buzzcocks,
Hardrive,
Pagans,
Lou Christie,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tres Demented,
John Coltrane,
L. Decosne,
Nas,
The Kinks,
Toni Rubio,
Aaron Thompson,
Pere Ubu,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Starr,
Henry Cow,
Black Bananas,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Rod Modell,
Fluxion,
Heaven 17,
ABC,
Warren Ellis,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
the Sonics,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
Nils Olav,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul II Soul,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Banda Bassotti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Morten Harket,
MDC,
The Dead C,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marine Girls,
The Remains,
The Mojo Men,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fuzztones,
Fad Gadget,
The Angels of Light,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Parry Music,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.