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 Morocco and from Accra.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lakeside to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
The Last Poets,
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scion,
The Gladiators,
Al Stewart,
Technova,
Fugazi,
A Flock of Seagulls,
PIL,
Monks,
The Names,
The Smoke,
Yellowson,
The Raincoats,
Crooked Eye,
Ultravox,
CMW,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy Collins,
John Cale,
Soul Sonic Force,
Second Layer,
Au Pairs,
The Velvet Underground,
Flipper,
John Foxx,
Animal Collective,
Sonic Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
The Slits,
June of 44,
Eurythmics,
Cameo,
Don Cherry,
Saccharine Trust,
Reagan Youth,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick Morgan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Matthew Bourne,
L. Decosne,
Rekid,
The Gap Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Moss Icon,
Altered Images,
the Soft Cell,
Dead Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Vogues,
Easy Going,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.