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 Hungary and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Grey Daturas to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Japan 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves,
Bang On A Can,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
Ituana,
Babytalk,
Cybotron,
Malaria!,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
Franke,
Essential Logic,
Desert Stars,
Roxette,
Donny Hathaway,
Tomorrow,
Eurythmics,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ornette Coleman,
Nick Fraelich,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Foxx,
The Cure,
Con Funk Shun,
Fela Kuti,
Marvin Gaye,
The Star Department,
Gichy Dan,
Kayak,
EPMD,
Siglo XX,
ABC,
Maleditus Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
Idris Muhammad,
Kurtis Blow,
Y Pants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Maurizio,
Half Japanese,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Neu!,
Suicide,
Morten Harket,
Outsiders,
Albert Ayler,
Wolf Eyes,
Harmonia,
Agent Orange,
Jacob Miller,
Sex Pistols,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti 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.