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 Kenya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Don Cherry to the electroclash 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Nas,
Drexciya,
Stiv Bators,
Adolescents,
Marc Almond,
Kayak,
the Slits,
Pierre Henry,
The American Breed,
Peter and Kerry,
The Victims,
B.T. Express,
Animal Collective,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Alphaville,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dawn Penn,
Marine Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fat Boys,
Cymande,
Dennis Brown,
The Happenings,
U.S. Maple,
Deakin,
Donald Byrd,
Supertramp,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moss Icon,
Moby Grape,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
cv313,
Don Cherry,
The Modern Lovers,
The Remains,
Circle Jerks,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Tim Buckley,
LL Cool J,
The Gap Band,
Donny Hathaway,
the Bar-Kays,
Organ,
Buzzcocks,
Kerri Chandler,
the Soft Cell,
the Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ten City,
Robert Wyatt,
Silicon Teens,
One Last Wish,
Sight & Sound,
The Barracudas,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.