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 New Zealand and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Bar-Kays,
Silicon Teens,
Erasure,
Althea and Donna,
Maurizio,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Wire,
Hoover,
Marvin Gaye,
David Axelrod,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rakim,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pantytec,
OOIOO,
Cluster,
Loose Ends,
Popol Vuh,
The Selecter,
Avey Tare,
The Index,
cv313,
The Residents,
Roxy Music,
Janne Schatter,
Amazonics,
The Wake,
Lightning Bolt,
Audionom,
X-101,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
MDC,
Rosa Yemen,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Banda Bassotti,
The Buckinghams,
The Motions,
Glambeats Corp.,
Yellowson,
Niagra,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
Thompson Twins,
Delta 5,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
New York Dolls,
Marc Almond,
Todd Rundgren,
The Moody Blues,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.