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 Cameroon and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 Thompson Twins to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Slits,
Pulsallama,
Slave,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Stetsasonic,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare,
The Knickerbockers,
Zero Boys,
Ice-T,
Tom Boy,
Mark Hollis,
Little Man,
Blancmange,
Shoche,
Aswad,
Magazine,
Mary Jane Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Outsiders,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Technova,
Carl Craig,
Swans,
Barry Ungar,
Harpers Bizarre,
Terry Callier,
Maurizio,
Moss Icon,
Minor Threat,
Index,
The Cramps,
Pagans,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Searchers,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Aural Exciters,
Althea and Donna,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Cecil Taylor,
Animal Collective,
Charles Mingus,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
Derrick Morgan,
The Detroit Cobras,
K-Klass,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joe Smooth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.