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 Tuvalu and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultra Naté to the funk 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
Anthony Braxton,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
Silicon Teens,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jawbox,
Spoonie Gee,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
UT,
Agitation Free,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Cale,
Ice-T,
Dennis Brown,
Iggy Pop,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Mojo Men,
Crooked Eye,
The Mummies,
Amazonics,
This Heat,
The Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
Susan Cadogan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Make Up,
Derrick May,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
James White and The Blacks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tears for Fears,
Cecil Taylor,
Hot Snakes,
Negative Approach,
Ossler,
Dawn Penn,
Wire,
Neu!,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Man Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crime,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
Gong,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Terry,
Rufus Thomas,
a-ha,
The Young Rascals,
Bauhaus,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.