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 Barbados and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
New York Dolls,
John Holt,
The Zeros,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Machine,
Section 25,
The Mojo Men,
The Smoke,
Iggy Pop,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heaven 17,
Minnie Riperton,
Scientists,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
ABBA,
Minutemen,
Underground Resistance,
Make Up,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
The Blackbyrds,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Monolake,
Das Ding,
Essential Logic,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jacob Miller,
X-Ray Spex,
Skaos,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Neil Young,
Sex Pistols,
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Tremeloes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minor Threat,
Drexciya,
Kerrie Biddell,
R.M.O.,
Black Flag,
Inner City,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
The Techniques,
Al Stewart,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cramps,
Mr. Review,
Tom Boy,
Silicon Teens,
cv313,
Black Sheep,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
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.