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 Kyrgyzstan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Niagra,
Pulsallama,
Darondo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Groovy Waters,
Toni Rubio,
Throbbing Gristle,
Erykah Badu,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terry Callier,
Al Stewart,
Don Cherry,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Warsaw,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Severed Heads,
The Leaves,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bad Manners,
Talk Talk,
The Mummies,
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Lakeside,
Mars,
Mark Hollis,
New York Dolls,
Nirvana,
The Moleskins,
Pierre Henry,
Rotary Connection,
Blossom Toes,
Country Teasers,
Adolescents,
Icehouse,
Urselle,
Roger Hodgson,
The Human League,
Black Pus,
Hashim,
Newcleus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quantec,
Shuggie Otis,
Quando Quango,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scrapy,
Gong,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Davy DMX,
Arcadia,
The Motions,
Pantytec,
The Neon Judgement,
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.