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 Iraq and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Newcleus to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Henry Cow,
Severed Heads,
Make Up,
Swans,
Juan Atkins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dual Sessions,
Lower 48,
Todd Terry,
Matthew Bourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispy Ambulance,
T.S.O.L.,
Ossler,
Loose Ends,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pere Ubu,
Main Source,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marvin Gaye,
Saccharine Trust,
Isaac Hayes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Buzzcocks,
Reagan Youth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roxy Music,
The Smoke,
Maurizio,
Skriet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Accadde A,
Tommy Roe,
Duran Duran,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Modern Lovers,
Barrington Levy,
Oblivians,
Can,
Sonny Sharrock,
Animal Collective,
Theoretical Girls,
Swell Maps,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blake Baxter,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
KRS-One,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.