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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Lyres to the punk 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 808 and a guitar 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 oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Alton Ellis,
JFA,
Mr. Review,
Skarface,
Sam Rivers,
Peter and Kerry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roger Hodgson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Metal Thangz,
the Normal,
Soulsonic Force,
MC5,
Eurythmics,
Moby Grape,
One Last Wish,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barbara Tucker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
Pere Ubu,
Anthony Braxton,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Magazine,
Sugar Minott,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Severed Heads,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Ponytail,
Davy DMX,
The Dirtbombs,
Cluster,
Jacques Brel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ultra Naté,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Model 500,
The Dave Clark Five,
Make Up,
Sandy B,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.