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 Colombia and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 güiro 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Detroit Cobras,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Infiniti,
Ronan,
Althea and Donna,
Average White Band,
Nas,
Monolake,
New Order,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cowsills,
Barrington Levy,
Soul II Soul,
Eli Mardock,
Minor Threat,
Black Bananas,
The Golliwogs,
The Monochrome Set,
Bob Dylan,
F. McDonald,
Scan 7,
The Moleskins,
Symarip,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Jeff Mills,
Flipper,
Pet Shop Boys,
Theoretical Girls,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Arcadia,
Mr. Review,
Crime,
Maurizio,
Minny Pops,
Hasil Adkins,
Camberwell Now,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
The Five Americans,
Bootsy Collins,
Fear,
Lalo Schifrin,
Grauzone,
Loose Ends,
Ultravox,
Sun Ra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Angels of Light,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
A Certain Ratio,
Buzzcocks,
Visage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Flag,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Doors,
Jandek,
Bobby Byrd,
The Gun Club,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.