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 Iran and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
L. Decosne,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
DJ Style,
the Association,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camouflage,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Unwound,
Ornette Coleman,
Joe Smooth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bill Near,
Maurizio,
Roxy Music,
Godley & Creme,
Loose Ends,
Sandy B,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Moleskins,
Agitation Free,
Rod Modell,
Sam Rivers,
Glenn Branca,
Marshall Jefferson,
New York Dolls,
Marvin Gaye,
Scion,
John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Scrapy,
The Gories,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Vogues,
Susan Cadogan,
Animal Collective,
Colin Newman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
The Remains,
Infiniti,
Johnny Clarke,
Warsaw,
The Zeros,
F. McDonald,
Rites of Spring,
Fatback Band,
The Victims,
The Stooges,
Wings,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Youth Brigade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.