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 Korea South and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 The Angels of Light to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Harmonia,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lower 48,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
Panda Bear,
Chris Corsano,
The Wake,
B.T. Express,
Can,
Jimmy McGriff,
MC5,
John Cale,
Pantaleimon,
X-101,
Icehouse,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dave Gahan,
Organ,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth,
L. Decosne,
Sarah Menescal,
Tomorrow,
Deepchord,
Soft Cell,
The Dead C,
The Slackers,
Young Marble Giants,
Henry Cow,
The Walker Brothers,
Roxette,
Ronnie Foster,
Fatback Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang On A Can,
Aaron Thompson,
Thee Headcoats,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Desert Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Monolake,
Roy Ayers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blackbyrds,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Skriet,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.