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 Vanuatu and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Monochrome Set to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every In Retrospect record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Flag,
Excepter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mr. Review,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bizarre Inc.,
K-Klass,
The Residents,
The Mummies,
Eden Ahbez,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Dorothy Ashby,
Main Source,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Crooked Eye,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Moon,
John Coltrane,
Index,
Wire,
Faust,
Crispy Ambulance,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Crime,
Chris & Cosey,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Delta 5,
Mantronix,
Newcleus,
Skriet,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Brothers Johnson,
Visage,
Organ,
the Slits,
The Fugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bob Dylan,
Echospace,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Joey Negro,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
Letta Mbulu,
Todd Terry,
Charles Mingus,
Ronan,
Swell Maps,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Dolphy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.