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 Poland and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 June Days to the techno 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
China Crisis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacob Miller,
Mr. Review,
Bauhaus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
DJ Sneak,
Bill Near,
Marc Almond,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anthony Braxton,
Yazoo,
The Gladiators,
Cameo,
Ludus,
Crash Course in Science,
Soft Cell,
Darondo,
Donny Hathaway,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Quadrant,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
June of 44,
Godley & Creme,
Sarah Menescal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bill Wells,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Neon Judgement,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
X-102,
John Foxx,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Music Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
48th St. Collective,
Marmalade,
Dennis Brown,
Agitation Free,
Flipper,
The Leaves,
Funky Four + One,
Brothers Johnson,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fugs,
Theoretical Girls,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Faust,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.