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 Papua New Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Cure to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Symarip,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
Excepter,
Archie Shepp,
Idris Muhammad,
Fat Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
This Heat,
Heaven 17,
Alison Limerick,
John Foxx,
Moby Grape,
kango's stein massive,
Deepchord,
Severed Heads,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Barclay James Harvest,
Drexciya,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
Moss Icon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Terry,
Sam Rivers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Terry Callier,
Gang Starr,
The Raincoats,
Little Man,
Tom Boy,
Motorama,
Lungfish,
Agent Orange,
Radiohead,
Gang Green,
Peter and Kerry,
Monolake,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott Heron,
Smog,
The Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The New Christs,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Whodini,
World's Most,
Eli Mardock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bush Tetras,
The Skatalites,
Mo-Dettes,
Yazoo,
Boredoms,
Monks,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.