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 Bhutan 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lebanon Hanover to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Minutemen,
Swell Maps,
The Black Dice,
The Electric Prunes,
the Slits,
Urselle,
Neil Young,
Ice-T,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mr. Review,
Brick,
The Invisible,
Shuggie Otis,
June of 44,
the Normal,
Los Fastidios,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
Country Teasers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Count Five,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
The Fall,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Beau Brummels,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Chrome,
These Immortal Souls,
Patti Smith,
Bill Wells,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rotary Connection,
The Cure,
UT,
Davy DMX,
Juan Atkins,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
the Association,
The Toasters,
Faust,
Bobbi Humphrey,
A Certain Ratio,
The Zeros,
Minnie Riperton,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
Slick Rick,
Sparks,
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
a-ha,
Roxette,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Q65,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.