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 Bahamas and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Chris & Cosey to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rotary Connection record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
Flipper,
DJ Style,
The Star Department,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Arab on Radar,
Cluster,
Outsiders,
Man Parrish,
Lower 48,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aswad,
OOIOO,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
The Slackers,
Nils Olav,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
The Young Rascals,
Joyce Sims,
Suburban Knight,
Radio Birdman,
Qualms,
Mandrill,
Jeru the Damaja,
H. Thieme,
Mo-Dettes,
Soul II Soul,
Pet Shop Boys,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
Michelle Simonal,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
DNA,
Bush Tetras,
Groovy Waters,
The Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Brass Construction,
Little Man,
AZ,
Young Marble Giants,
Magma,
Rites of Spring,
Ronnie Foster,
Bob Dylan,
Vladislav Delay,
Aural Exciters,
Zero Boys,
The Moody Blues,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
the Association,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Martian,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.