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 Cambodia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Aswad,
Porter Ricks,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Groovy Waters,
Black Flag,
Cymande,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Toasters,
Marvin Gaye,
Smog,
The Selecter,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Pop Group,
Subhumans,
Lucky Dragons,
New Order,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Can,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hasil Adkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maurizio,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Fear,
Mars,
The Walker Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Donny Hathaway,
Vladislav Delay,
Prince Buster,
Patti Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lyres,
Rod Modell,
Charles Mingus,
Jawbox,
The Monochrome Set,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
The Music Machine,
Das Ding,
The Fall,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Offenders,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Shoche,
the Association,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.