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 France and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terry Callier to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Seeds,
DNA,
Basic Channel,
Kayak,
Harry Pussy,
Kurtis Blow,
The Happenings,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sandy B,
Rites of Spring,
Tres Demented,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Moby Grape,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sight & Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Victims,
Boogie Down Productions,
Zero Boys,
Erasure,
Los Fastidios,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
The Gladiators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Audionom,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Blossom Toes,
Underground Resistance,
Derrick Morgan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-102,
Cal Tjader,
the Bar-Kays,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Jawbox,
Robert Wyatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Blackbyrds,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
The Birthday Party,
The Alarm Clocks,
Prince Buster,
Barry Ungar,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Black Flag,
Bronski Beat,
Deakin,
Rapeman,
The Grass Roots,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.