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 Dominica and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
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 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 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 Raincoats to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Bar-Kays record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Severed Heads,
The Beau Brummels,
Saccharine Trust,
Dennis Brown,
The Red Krayola,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
PIL,
The Monochrome Set,
Sparks,
The Cramps,
Lyres,
Alison Limerick,
U.S. Maple,
Blancmange,
Sugar Minott,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aloha Tigers,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Almond,
Howard Jones,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
Skriet,
Donald Byrd,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
Second Layer,
Masters at Work,
Danielle Patucci,
The Saints,
Joe Smooth,
Pulsallama,
Rotary Connection,
Television,
Maurizio,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pierre Henry,
Parry Music,
The Human League,
Little Man,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Eli Mardock,
Fad Gadget,
Subhumans,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
Ossler,
a-ha,
Leonard Cohen,
Agent Orange,
Chris & Cosey,
Ronnie Foster,
Sound Behaviour,
The Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
Khruangbin,
Jerry's Kids,
Rosa Yemen,
Thompson Twins,
Arab on Radar,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.