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 Tajikistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the crunk 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Black Flag,
The Barracudas,
Oblivians,
Technova,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aswad,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Scratch Acid,
Wings,
Organ,
The Vogues,
Hardrive,
Pere Ubu,
Ultimate Spinach,
E-Dancer,
Alice Coltrane,
The Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Delta 5,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
Vainqueur,
Unrelated Segments,
MDC,
John Lydon,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Hood,
Outsiders,
Crash Course in Science,
Aaron Thompson,
Black Pus,
One Last Wish,
The Gladiators,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Flipper,
The Mojo Men,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New Age Steppers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Junior Murvin,
The Velvet Underground,
Joyce Sims,
Silicon Teens,
the Human League,
Crime,
Peter and Kerry,
Marine Girls,
Y Pants,
Erykah Badu,
Suicide,
Q and Not U,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.