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 Papua New Guinea and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Hasil Adkins to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Second Layer,
The Smiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
Tres Demented,
Cymande,
Iggy Pop,
X-Ray Spex,
Anthony Braxton,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
Young Marble Giants,
Q65,
Easy Going,
The Cramps,
the Swans,
Colin Newman,
Malaria!,
Cal Tjader,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Vladislav Delay,
Eden Ahbez,
Mark Hollis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Vogues,
Reagan Youth,
the Normal,
Das Ding,
The Doors,
The Buckinghams,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scientists,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
FM Einheit,
Pole,
Isaac Hayes,
Henry Cow,
Eve St. Jones,
Jandek,
Harry Pussy,
U.S. Maple,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Absolute Body Control,
Sam Rivers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Anakelly,
Susan Cadogan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.