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 Montenegro and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Cure to the rap 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Qualms,
The Smoke,
Magma,
The Modern Lovers,
Negative Approach,
Tubeway Army,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Youth Brigade,
Donny Hathaway,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ornette Coleman,
Judy Mowatt,
The Grass Roots,
Lebanon Hanover,
Inner City,
Babytalk,
Stiv Bators,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
AZ,
Johnny Clarke,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Monochrome Set,
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The J.B.'s,
Unwound,
Altered Images,
ABBA,
Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Deepchord,
Eurythmics,
Scratch Acid,
Minny Pops,
Outsiders,
Boredoms,
The Shadows of Knight,
DJ Style,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
Desert Stars,
Niagra,
Livin' Joy,
Black Bananas,
The Count Five,
Derrick Morgan,
Arab on Radar,
The Sound,
The Kinks,
Leonard Cohen,
One Last Wish,
Don Cherry,
Michelle Simonal,
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
Liliput,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mr. Review,
Q and Not U,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.