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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Smiths,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rapeman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Inner City,
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
JFA,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
Vladislav Delay,
Lou Christie,
Reuben Wilson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Blake Baxter,
Organ,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cure,
Sonic Youth,
Patti Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Minor Threat,
Junior Murvin,
Prince Buster,
The Monks,
Soft Cell,
The Young Rascals,
CMW,
Wire,
Bauhaus,
Sun City Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jeff Mills,
The Pop Group,
The Standells,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Searchers,
Interpol,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gladiators,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bad Manners,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Invisible,
The Litter,
Q and Not U,
Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
The Moody Blues,
Zapp,
Cybotron,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
Dead Boys,
the Swans,
The Real Kids,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.