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 Pakistan and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Monks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
The Victims,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gap Band,
Chrome,
the Germs,
Ohio Players,
The J.B.'s,
Suicide,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rufus Thomas,
The Saints,
Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bluetip,
Malaria!,
Can,
Nirvana,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Red Krayola,
Ituana,
Soul II Soul,
Dennis Brown,
Yazoo,
Circle Jerks,
Organ,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerrie Biddell,
Average White Band,
Basic Channel,
The Divine Comedy,
Banda Bassotti,
Make Up,
The Standells,
the Association,
Newcleus,
Max Romeo,
B.T. Express,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Grey Daturas,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Count Five,
Flash Fearless,
Reagan Youth,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marmalade,
Con Funk Shun,
ABC,
The Busters,
Nils Olav,
Black Bananas,
Model 500,
Inner City,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.