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 Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Marc Almond to the jazz 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Quando Quango,
New Order,
Index,
Marmalade,
Agitation Free,
Nas,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ponytail,
Isaac Hayes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Parry Music,
a-ha,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Pus,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
Bill Wells,
Fatback Band,
Supertramp,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Bananas,
Eddi Front,
Grauzone,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Deepchord,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barrington Levy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
AZ,
The Leaves,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minnie Riperton,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moebius,
Sällskapet,
The Smoke,
The Searchers,
Quadrant,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Idris Muhammad,
Bob Dylan,
Circle Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Desert Stars,
The Star Department,
Harry Pussy,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.