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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Holger Czukay 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 Porter Ricks to the disco 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
Stetsasonic,
Quadrant,
Kerrie Biddell,
Henry Cow,
Soft Machine,
The Fall,
Matthew Bourne,
Dave Gahan,
John Foxx,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Connie Case,
Gang Green,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cymande,
Joe Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lungfish,
Dead Boys,
Bang On A Can,
LL Cool J,
Tom Boy,
DNA,
Moebius,
Groovy Waters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
PIL,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gichy Dan,
Sound Behaviour,
Symarip,
Underground Resistance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rotary Connection,
Pantytec,
Clear Light,
Rapeman,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Urselle,
Rod Modell,
Sixth Finger,
Ponytail,
The Techniques,
Alphaville,
Robert Hood,
Wings,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
Eden Ahbez,
Talk Talk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Parrish,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.