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 Chile and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marcia Griffiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Delta 5,
Wire,
Chrome,
The Offenders,
Hasil Adkins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Slackers,
Banda Bassotti,
New Order,
Scott Walker,
Adolescents,
Grey Daturas,
Icehouse,
Gang Green,
Alison Limerick,
Mars,
Barry Ungar,
The Monks,
The Last Poets,
Drive Like Jehu,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Cell,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
June Days,
Sonic Youth,
Bobby Sherman,
Little Man,
The Durutti Column,
Yaz,
Althea and Donna,
Ken Boothe,
The Standells,
The Techniques,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Don Cherry,
MDC,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eli Mardock,
Isaac Hayes,
Howard Jones,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fela Kuti,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Kinks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Toni Rubio,
Main Source,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Barracudas,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.