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 South Africa and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))) to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tubeway Army record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Stiv Bators,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Sonics,
Flipper,
Johnny Clarke,
The Stooges,
Warsaw,
Cecil Taylor,
Davy DMX,
Whodini,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Hood,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
EPMD,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Circle Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Ten City,
Radiohead,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reagan Youth,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Blancmange,
the Association,
Suicide,
The American Breed,
Letta Mbulu,
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Funkadelic,
Television,
The Doors,
Swell Maps,
Glenn Branca,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Fortunes,
Von Mondo,
Thompson Twins,
Hoover,
Rod Modell,
The Cramps,
Subhumans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
Lou Christie,
E-Dancer,
The Human League,
T.S.O.L.,
The Victims,
John Holt,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.