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 Iran and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Blossom Toes to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Brick,
Maurizio,
Masters at Work,
Marvin Gaye,
The Misunderstood,
The Last Poets,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Axelrod,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rosa Yemen,
Peter & Gordon,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
Youth Brigade,
Drive Like Jehu,
Saccharine Trust,
the Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
UT,
DJ Style,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ituana,
Stiv Bators,
F. McDonald,
Byron Stingily,
Average White Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hashim,
EPMD,
a-ha,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mission of Burma,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Starr,
DNA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fear,
Chris Corsano,
The Pretty Things,
Second Layer,
Agent Orange,
Danielle Patucci,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fatback Band,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yaz,
Marc Almond,
Kenny Larkin,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.