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 Cuba and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Man Eating Sloth to the electroclash 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Adolescents,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mighty Diamonds,
MDC,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Nas,
Monolake,
Mary Jane Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sugar Minott,
Pere Ubu,
Blancmange,
the Germs,
Half Japanese,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eurythmics,
Gang of Four,
Drexciya,
Jawbox,
Can,
Godley & Creme,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moebius,
Mr. Review,
Thee Headcoats,
Sam Rivers,
Man Parrish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vladislav Delay,
Yellowson,
Metal Thangz,
Quando Quango,
Davy DMX,
Bad Manners,
The Blackbyrds,
Gabor Szabo,
Spandau Ballet,
Guru Guru,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Marshall Jefferson,
Roxy Music,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Dolphy,
FM Einheit,
Scratch Acid,
Lungfish,
Urselle,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-Ray Spex,
The Vogues,
PIL,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.