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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Average White Band to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
The Smoke,
June of 44,
Steve Hackett,
Harmonia,
OOIOO,
The Invisible,
Gong,
DNA,
Yusef Lateef,
Hashim,
Metal Thangz,
MDC,
Sällskapet,
Sugar Minott,
These Immortal Souls,
Panda Bear,
Fela Kuti,
DJ Sneak,
The Star Department,
Jerry's Kids,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Hood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Japan,
Rotary Connection,
Malaria!,
Grauzone,
Masters at Work,
Quadrant,
Nik Kershaw,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pretty Things,
The Selecter,
Derrick Morgan,
ABBA,
EPMD,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
Bob Dylan,
Barrington Levy,
Junior Murvin,
Wings,
Freddie Wadling,
Dead Boys,
Tubeway Army,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joyce Sims,
Brand Nubian,
The J.B.'s,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.