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 Uganda and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Don Cherry to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
Erasure,
Sun City Girls,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Swans,
Maleditus Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Neon Judgement,
The Happenings,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry's Kids,
Tom Boy,
Radio Birdman,
Guru Guru,
Johnny Osbourne,
Silicon Teens,
The Music Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
Half Japanese,
Moss Icon,
Max Romeo,
Bob Dylan,
UT,
Ultravox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Gabor Szabo,
Carl Craig,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aural Exciters,
Rites of Spring,
Thompson Twins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Monks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
Franke,
Godley & Creme,
Niagra,
The Stooges,
Eden Ahbez,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Association,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Swans,
The Blues Magoos,
Prince Buster,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.