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 South Sudan and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Masters at Work,
Accadde A,
Scott Walker,
Nas,
Eric B and Rakim,
DNA,
Aaron Thompson,
Arcadia,
The Barracudas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Toni Rubio,
The Mojo Men,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Main Source,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bootsy Collins,
Symarip,
Aswad,
Wire,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Depeche Mode,
the Association,
A Certain Ratio,
The Young Rascals,
Oblivians,
The Five Americans,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Maleditus Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Grauzone,
Royal Trux,
Bad Manners,
Essential Logic,
Peter & Gordon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rod Modell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Ten City,
Black Bananas,
Carl Craig,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
Babytalk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.