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 Rwanda and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the dance 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camberwell Now,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Janne Schatter,
Lungfish,
Sonic Youth,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
Colin Newman,
The Happenings,
Skaos,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
Letta Mbulu,
Neu!,
Joe Smooth,
Matthew Halsall,
Radio Birdman,
Von Mondo,
The Wake,
The Divine Comedy,
Pantytec,
Crooked Eye,
The Litter,
The Count Five,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
John Cale,
Ituana,
The Gun Club,
Ultimate Spinach,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mojo Men,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Half Japanese,
Mad Mike,
Nik Kershaw,
Barry Ungar,
The Leaves,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camouflage,
Jimmy McGriff,
Man Parrish,
Lakeside,
Porter Ricks,
the Germs,
Chris Corsano,
The Five Americans,
Bluetip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pierre Henry,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
The Black Dice,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Youth Brigade,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.