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 St Lucia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Saccharine Trust to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Chris & Cosey,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang of Four,
Camouflage,
Delon & Dalcan,
Brick,
Symarip,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Blues Magoos,
Gang Green,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lalann,
Josef K,
Anakelly,
The Busters,
Ice-T,
Albert Ayler,
The Monks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Procol Harum,
The Dirtbombs,
Khruangbin,
Faraquet,
cv313,
Silicon Teens,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Curtis Mayfield,
John Coltrane,
Drexciya,
Babytalk,
Monolake,
The Red Krayola,
Stetsasonic,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Gong,
Liliput,
L. Decosne,
Charles Mingus,
Brand Nubian,
The Saints,
Simply Red,
The Kinks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Theoretical Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sex Pistols,
MDC,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ponytail,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Con Funk Shun,
Fela Kuti,
Maurizio,
Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade, Youth Brigade.
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.