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 Fiji and from Milan.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Mission of Burma to the rock 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Flesh Eaters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Interpol,
The Gladiators,
The Stooges,
The J.B.'s,
Harmonia,
The Moleskins,
The Standells,
Crispy Ambulance,
Severed Heads,
The Cramps,
Camouflage,
Deepchord,
Sonic Youth,
Gabor Szabo,
Parry Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wire,
Radio Birdman,
Freddie Wadling,
Cymande,
The Last Poets,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cybotron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lou Reed,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Mills,
Monks,
The Raincoats,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The United States of America,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
FM Einheit,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Model 500,
Subhumans,
Reuben Wilson,
K-Klass,
Henry Cow,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Easy Going,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
Silicon Teens,
The Red Krayola,
Wasted Youth,
Bauhaus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rod Modell,
John Lydon,
Sun Ra,
Fear,
Rapeman,
Kerri Chandler,
Newcleus,
Shuggie Otis,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.