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 Portugal and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 grunge 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe 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 marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
Derrick May,
Albert Ayler,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Trumans Water,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
In Retrospect,
The Index,
Fela Kuti,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Byron Stingily,
Chrome,
Black Moon,
Ken Boothe,
Minor Threat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Urselle,
Slave,
Graham Central Station,
Moebius,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Loose Ends,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scientists,
Davy DMX,
cv313,
Warsaw,
The Shadows of Knight,
Drexciya,
Altered Images,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jandek,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Sam Rivers,
The Buckinghams,
The Misunderstood,
Sister Nancy,
Animal Collective,
Wings,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Babytalk,
Lower 48,
Terry Callier,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Michelle Simonal,
Angry Samoans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.