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 Malawi and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
Ultra Naté,
Surgeon,
48th St. Collective,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Skarface,
The Smiths,
Basic Channel,
Drexciya,
The Human League,
Tom Boy,
Glenn Branca,
Donny Hathaway,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
Davy DMX,
Skriet,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Foxx,
Don Cherry,
John Coltrane,
Brick,
The Victims,
Bauhaus,
The New Christs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Doors,
Pylon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
The Busters,
Althea and Donna,
Heaven 17,
Sandy B,
the Normal,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Mills,
CMW,
The Buckinghams,
Funky Four + One,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Moon,
Television Personalities,
The Leaves,
Bad Manners,
ABC,
T.S.O.L.,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Scratch Acid,
Minor Threat,
Qualms,
Thompson Twins,
Leonard Cohen,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.