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 Laos and from Lyon.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Newcleus to the electroclash 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Pylon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
X-102,
Junior Murvin,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
The Seeds,
Mission of Burma,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Technova,
Khruangbin,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Das Ding,
Loose Ends,
Bad Manners,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Main Source,
Liliput,
The Tremeloes,
Byron Stingily,
Gang Green,
Anthony Braxton,
Livin' Joy,
kango's stein massive,
Unwound,
Cheater Slicks,
the Association,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Gerry Rafferty,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Interpol,
Alton Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alice Coltrane,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
Basic Channel,
Popol Vuh,
The Smoke,
Funkadelic,
Minny Pops,
Dave Gahan,
James White and The Blacks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Bauhaus,
Moebius,
Rapeman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.