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 Indonesia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Livin' Joy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Invisible,
Dennis Brown,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cal Tjader,
The Cramps,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alphaville,
Gerry Rafferty,
Buzzcocks,
Inner City,
Prince Buster,
The American Breed,
The Dead C,
OOIOO,
Camberwell Now,
Brand Nubian,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Fall,
Pole,
The Misunderstood,
Man Parrish,
Ludus,
Rhythm & Sound,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ponytail,
Soft Machine,
Crime,
The Mummies,
Oneida,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erasure,
Boz Scaggs,
Mark Hollis,
Adolescents,
The J.B.'s,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Archie Shepp,
R.M.O.,
X-101,
The Star Department,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Bananas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
This Heat,
Procol Harum,
Bobby Sherman,
Mars,
The Zeros,
Gang of Four,
Moebius,
Shuggie Otis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mad Mike,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Green,
John Holt,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.