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 Singapore and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Masters at Work to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Siglo XX,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Pole,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
Nas,
Arcadia,
Anakelly,
Thompson Twins,
The Modern Lovers,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
Black Moon,
Metal Thangz,
Howard Jones,
Scrapy,
AZ,
Reagan Youth,
Rekid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Popol Vuh,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fortunes,
Blancmange,
Ten City,
The Cowsills,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pere Ubu,
Angry Samoans,
Television Personalities,
Pierre Henry,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
Blake Baxter,
Susan Cadogan,
a-ha,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Wasted Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Andrew Hill,
Swans,
Qualms,
Niagra,
Michelle Simonal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Erasure,
Trumans Water,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minor Threat,
Adolescents,
FM Einheit,
Zero Boys,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.