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 Georgia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 clarinet 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Niagra,
Byron Stingily,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Subhumans,
LL Cool J,
ABBA,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Guru Guru,
Warsaw,
The Star Department,
Bluetip,
The Red Krayola,
Half Japanese,
EPMD,
Desert Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Unwound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Quando Quango,
Todd Terry,
Faraquet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alphaville,
The Martian,
Drexciya,
Reagan Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Quantec,
Rufus Thomas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
The Birthday Party,
Siglo XX,
The Smoke,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fad Gadget,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Harmonia,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
The Seeds,
Jacob Miller,
Robert Wyatt,
New Order,
The Skatalites,
The Evens,
Dave Gahan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
Crash Course in Science,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minor Threat,
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.