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 Benin and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the rap 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Theoretical Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Rapeman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nils Olav,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Unwound,
The Alarm Clocks,
48th St. Collective,
Chrome,
Black Pus,
World's Most,
Nas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spoonie Gee,
The Toasters,
Wolf Eyes,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
Marmalade,
Hardrive,
PIL,
The Pretty Things,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tim Buckley,
Vladislav Delay,
A Certain Ratio,
Carl Craig,
Basic Channel,
Ituana,
Sparks,
The Doors,
Excepter,
Joe Smooth,
Alphaville,
Robert Wyatt,
Aloha Tigers,
Radio Birdman,
T. Rex,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nico,
KRS-One,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.