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 Sudan and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
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 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 David Bowie 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 Television Personalities to the jazz 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 Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Boogie Down Productions,
Piero Umiliani,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
Johnny Clarke,
Fat Boys,
Joe Finger,
Lakeside,
The Cramps,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mantronix,
Nation of Ulysses,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blancmange,
Alison Limerick,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David Bowie,
Sister Nancy,
John Foxx,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Style,
The Techniques,
Joy Division,
Black Sheep,
Drive Like Jehu,
Animal Collective,
MC5,
Faraquet,
Soft Machine,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arcadia,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echospace,
The Angels of Light,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
The Human League,
Y Pants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thompson Twins,
Infiniti,
Barbara Tucker,
Sparks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.