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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fatback Band to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dark Day,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grauzone,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joy Division,
Siglo XX,
Audionom,
Gong,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Smiths,
Dave Gahan,
Swell Maps,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
The Leaves,
The Misunderstood,
Blake Baxter,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
Half Japanese,
Mo-Dettes,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed,
China Crisis,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter & Gordon,
Franke,
Dual Sessions,
Chris Corsano,
Jandek,
Monks,
Second Layer,
the Human League,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Pus,
Stiv Bators,
John Coltrane,
Infiniti,
the Swans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
U.S. Maple,
The Index,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Public Image Ltd.,
Henry Cow,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.