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 Belize and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Ronan,
Bang On A Can,
Lindisfarne,
Sonic Youth,
Mars,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Certain Ratio,
Cheater Slicks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chris & Cosey,
The Dead C,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
T. Rex,
Von Mondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
Wire,
Gichy Dan,
Hoover,
Suicide,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quadrant,
Yaz,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Toni Rubio,
Maleditus Sound,
Franke,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Copeland,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Dawn Penn,
The Skatalites,
Connie Case,
Saccharine Trust,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun City Girls,
Supertramp,
Fatback Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
Rites of Spring,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Patti Smith,
Can,
The Smoke,
Theoretical Girls,
Quantec,
Juan Atkins,
Q and Not U,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.