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 Saudi Arabia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Slits to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
Y Pants,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Deadbeat,
This Heat,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kayak,
The Gladiators,
Flash Fearless,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Fraelich,
Connie Case,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cybotron,
Henry Cow,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Glenn Branca,
The Last Poets,
London Community Gospel Choir,
L. Decosne,
Schoolly D,
Todd Terry,
The Fortunes,
The Doors,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
Bang On A Can,
Silicon Teens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Q65,
Sam Rivers,
the Germs,
Young Marble Giants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sound Behaviour,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound,
The United States of America,
The Invisible,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thompson Twins,
Massinfluence,
Absolute Body Control,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eve St. Jones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
A Flock of Seagulls,
B.T. Express,
The Moody Blues,
Erykah Badu,
Alton Ellis,
DNA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.