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 Ivory Coast and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Flag to the rock 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Banda Bassotti,
B.T. Express,
Ohio Players,
Whodini,
The Martian,
Metal Thangz,
La Düsseldorf,
Rod Modell,
Sonny Sharrock,
Drexciya,
The Slits,
Peter and Kerry,
Joensuu 1685,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Joy Division,
Howard Jones,
The Skatalites,
Ludus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
The Happenings,
the Human League,
Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D,
Joey Negro,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
Animal Collective,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ornette Coleman,
Anakelly,
Rapeman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
Neil Young,
John Foxx,
Scrapy,
Gang Green,
Blake Baxter,
The Names,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
Frankie Knuckles,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
The Gun Club,
Fatback Band,
Shuggie Otis,
Marvin Gaye,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Crispy Ambulance,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.