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 Tanzania and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Walker Brothers to the grime 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
Tres Demented,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Busters,
Groovy Waters,
Deepchord,
Harmonia,
Skaos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crime,
Intrusion,
the Swans,
Lindisfarne,
Symarip,
Swell Maps,
Parry Music,
The Star Department,
Little Man,
Audionom,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
Wally Richardson,
The Wake,
Thee Headcoats,
Average White Band,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
Anakelly,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Hill,
The Martian,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Erasure,
Janne Schatter,
The Neon Judgement,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New York Dolls,
Susan Cadogan,
Royal Trux,
Technova,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
B.T. Express,
The Raincoats,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nas,
Mo-Dettes,
the Association,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.