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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Royal Trux to the punk 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar 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 Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
EPMD,
The Motions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bad Manners,
Hot Snakes,
The Barracudas,
Fear,
Soft Cell,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
Michelle Simonal,
Brick,
The Litter,
Donny Hathaway,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
Youth Brigade,
Depeche Mode,
Chris Corsano,
Leonard Cohen,
Suicide,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
E-Dancer,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Don Cherry,
Simply Red,
The Mummies,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cheater Slicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cameo,
Maleditus Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Patti Smith,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Copeland,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pierre Henry,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine,
The Martian,
Neil Young,
Grauzone,
Khruangbin,
John Lydon,
The Beau Brummels,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.