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 Switzerland and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the crunk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
FM Einheit,
James White and The Blacks,
The Slits,
The Leaves,
Bill Wells,
Kayak,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anthony Braxton,
Tom Boy,
Black Moon,
Fad Gadget,
Interpol,
Toni Rubio,
Althea and Donna,
Josef K,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
The Vogues,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fugs,
The Searchers,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
Ludus,
New York Dolls,
Shoche,
Todd Terry,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sonic Youth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Christie,
Gastr Del Sol,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Main Source,
The United States of America,
The Electric Prunes,
Tubeway Army,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fortunes,
Skaos,
Mission of Burma,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Massinfluence,
Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale, Lou Reed & John Cale.
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.