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 Zambia and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angry Samoans to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Music Machine. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Roger Hodgson,
T.S.O.L.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Radiohead,
Alphaville,
The Dead C,
Cybotron,
The Cowsills,
UT,
Tears for Fears,
The Fortunes,
Todd Terry,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Velvet Underground,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sarah Menescal,
Deadbeat,
DNA,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
Con Funk Shun,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Flipper,
a-ha,
Dead Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Offenders,
Jeff Lynne,
Pierre Henry,
Sex Pistols,
John Lydon,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
Magma,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stiv Bators,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brass Construction,
Pagans,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Crispy Ambulance,
B.T. Express,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Adolescents,
E-Dancer,
Technova,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Reuben Wilson,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Section 25,
The Happenings,
Bobby Byrd,
Organ,
Lou Christie,
The Buckinghams,
Ultra Naté,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.