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 St Lucia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 808 and a rhodes 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 organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Pagans,
Electric Prunes,
Visage,
Crooked Eye,
Public Enemy,
Parry Music,
Ohio Players,
The Monks,
Liliput,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grey Daturas,
Simply Red,
Sugar Minott,
Babytalk,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Hood,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
Bauhaus,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Wells,
Spandau Ballet,
Arcadia,
Morten Harket,
Bobby Sherman,
Erasure,
Hasil Adkins,
Man Parrish,
Pole,
Kas Product,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wolf Eyes,
Dark Day,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Martian,
Freddie Wadling,
Kool Moe Dee,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
Dennis Brown,
Von Mondo,
Royal Trux,
The Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
ABC,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.