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 Tunisia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Leaves to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Eli Mardock,
The American Breed,
Wings,
Rapeman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Slave,
The United States of America,
Roger Hodgson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suburban Knight,
Urselle,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
the Normal,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light,
Bronski Beat,
The Real Kids,
The Gun Club,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cybotron,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare,
Yellowson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
David Bowie,
Parry Music,
One Last Wish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Massinfluence,
Cluster,
The Durutti Column,
Deakin,
Accadde A,
Can,
The Red Krayola,
Eric Dolphy,
Liliput,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Janne Schatter,
Kayak,
Surgeon,
Blossom Toes,
a-ha,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Babytalk,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magma,
Cheater Slicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Zeros,
Traffic Nightmare,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.