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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lucky Dragons to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Echospace,
Main Source,
Motorama,
Whodini,
Jacques Brel,
Leonard Cohen,
Girls At Our Best!,
F. McDonald,
Scientists,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
JFA,
Unrelated Segments,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
Magazine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lindisfarne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Y Pants,
the Germs,
Ponytail,
Black Flag,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun City Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Human League,
X-101,
China Crisis,
Robert Görl,
Harry Pussy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Howard Jones,
Alphaville,
Nico,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
AZ,
Popol Vuh,
Niagra,
Rekid,
Scott Walker,
Oblivians,
New York Dolls,
Underground Resistance,
The Names,
Janne Schatter,
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
Reuben Wilson,
Porter Ricks,
Roxy Music,
Blossom Toes,
Talk Talk,
The Dave Clark Five,
H. Thieme,
Lou Reed,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.