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 Bulgaria and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Scott Walker to the rock 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Panda Bear,
Curtis Mayfield,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Happenings,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
48th St. Collective,
Banda Bassotti,
Infiniti,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Crooked Eye,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
H. Thieme,
Tomorrow,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pole,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
The Moody Blues,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun City Girls,
Funky Four + One,
The Music Machine,
The Gladiators,
The Mummies,
Lyres,
Roxy Music,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxette,
Cameo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Flag,
The Birthday Party,
Ken Boothe,
The Blues Magoos,
June of 44,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bob Dylan,
Soft Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Monks,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Basic Channel,
Marvin Gaye,
the Germs,
Moebius,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids, Richard Hell and the Voidoids.
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.