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 Albania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Underground Resistance to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke 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?
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Black Flag,
Juan Atkins,
Lyres,
Slick Rick,
Average White Band,
Tim Buckley,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
Kerri Chandler,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
the Human League,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fugs,
Sam Rivers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
The Offenders,
Eli Mardock,
The Associates,
H. Thieme,
Essential Logic,
Sugar Minott,
Con Funk Shun,
Laurel Aitken,
Siglo XX,
David McCallum,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cure,
Jeff Mills,
Radio Birdman,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
Ice-T,
Inner City,
Connie Case,
The Grass Roots,
Shoche,
Black Sheep,
Nik Kershaw,
Fear,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Lightning Bolt,
Albert Ayler,
The Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gladiators,
Neu!,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.