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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Outsiders to the disco 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nico,
UT,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Human League,
Subhumans,
Deadbeat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bizarre Inc.,
Audionom,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pylon,
The United States of America,
Prince Buster,
Tres Demented,
the Germs,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
Andrew Hill,
Alphaville,
Urselle,
Adolescents,
Mantronix,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
The Cramps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
Erasure,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Searchers,
Simply Red,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dead C,
One Last Wish,
Robert Wyatt,
the Normal,
The Gun Club,
Kaleidoscope,
Harry Pussy,
Soulsonic Force,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
The Star Department,
Johnny Osbourne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.