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 Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
Danielle Patucci,
Monks,
Lou Reed,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Index,
JFA,
Crime,
Depeche Mode,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jandek,
Letta Mbulu,
Tres Demented,
Kenny Larkin,
The Associates,
Cymande,
Matthew Bourne,
Prince Buster,
Echospace,
Heaven 17,
Soft Cell,
Zapp,
David Axelrod,
Chris & Cosey,
Byron Stingily,
Thee Headcoats,
the Association,
the Soft Cell,
Rod Modell,
The Velvet Underground,
Circle Jerks,
Idris Muhammad,
The Black Dice,
Wings,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Make Up,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Anthony Braxton,
Slave,
Quantec,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
LL Cool J,
R.M.O.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lungfish,
Rosa Yemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Severed Heads,
The Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers,
Aloha Tigers,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.