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 Kyrgyzstan and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Johnny Osbourne to the dance 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Evens,
The American Breed,
T. Rex,
B.T. Express,
Deadbeat,
Niagra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
The Velvet Underground,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Christie,
Colin Newman,
The Standells,
Barbara Tucker,
Ice-T,
China Crisis,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cluster,
The Smiths,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
Grey Daturas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Little Man,
Quando Quango,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Young Marble Giants,
Pantytec,
Nation of Ulysses,
Connie Case,
Skriet,
The Cramps,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Spoonie Gee,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Steve Hackett,
Camouflage,
Swell Maps,
Wire,
The Mummies,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Moleskins,
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
One Last Wish,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fugazi,
the Association,
Flash Fearless,
Mantronix,
Radiohead,
Sun Ra,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.