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 Uganda and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Gap Band,
Hoover,
Drexciya,
Henry Cow,
Hardrive,
The Music Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Icehouse,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Con Funk Shun,
Pylon,
Pierre Henry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Carl Craig,
The Alarm Clocks,
Whodini,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
Electric Prunes,
Bootsy Collins,
The Names,
Sugar Minott,
Severed Heads,
Unwound,
Marine Girls,
Chrome,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deakin,
Ossler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Organ,
The Tremeloes,
Deadbeat,
The Pretty Things,
Aural Exciters,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Fortunes,
Swans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Easy Going,
Byron Stingily,
Moebius,
Blancmange,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
10cc,
Letta Mbulu,
Kenny Larkin,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cowsills,
Ultra Naté,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.