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 Czech Republic and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Henry Cow to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Q and Not U,
The Gories,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
Easy Going,
Loose Ends,
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Count Five,
Whodini,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Bar-Kays,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Blossom Toes,
Pole,
Sister Nancy,
Severed Heads,
The Birthday Party,
Suicide,
Altered Images,
Tomorrow,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Eric Copeland,
the Slits,
Prince Buster,
The Fall,
Eli Mardock,
Maurizio,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
Q65,
Albert Ayler,
The Gap Band,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
Arthur Verocai,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
Pulsallama,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tom Boy,
Susan Cadogan,
The Buckinghams,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Youth Brigade,
Morten Harket,
Funky Four + One,
Panda Bear,
Man Parrish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gerry Rafferty,
David McCallum,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.