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 Kazakhstan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter 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 a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Donny Hathaway,
Harry Pussy,
Roger Hodgson,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
The Cowsills,
John Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
the Association,
Drive Like Jehu,
Connie Case,
Liliput,
Rapeman,
Gastr Del Sol,
X-101,
John Lydon,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Human League,
The Blackbyrds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television Personalities,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eyeless In Gaza,
8 Eyed Spy,
Al Stewart,
Yazoo,
The Alarm Clocks,
PIL,
Jacob Miller,
The Mojo Men,
Porter Ricks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bad Manners,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fad Gadget,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Khruangbin,
Dead Boys,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
10cc,
Thee Headcoats,
Slave,
Eurythmics,
The Fuzztones,
Groovy Waters,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.