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 United States and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Groovy Waters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
The Five Americans,
Byron Stingily,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Residents,
Gong,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Style,
ABC,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Gang Dance,
CMW,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Hood,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blues Magoos,
Minnie Riperton,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Dave Gahan,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
The Pretty Things,
Negative Approach,
Bad Manners,
Kenny Larkin,
Cluster,
Mark Hollis,
X-101,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Essential Logic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Carl Craig,
China Crisis,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Dead C,
Urselle,
Wasted Youth,
In Retrospect,
the Association,
The Young Rascals,
Newcleus,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Liliput,
Janne Schatter,
David Axelrod,
Dark Day,
New York Dolls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cameo,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.