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 Dominica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Livin' Joy to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Byron Stingily,
John Foxx,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Symarip,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Flag,
Jawbox,
The Blues Magoos,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dorothy Ashby,
F. McDonald,
Tears for Fears,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
Mantronix,
Yazoo,
Marc Almond,
The Golliwogs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Agitation Free,
The Fortunes,
Dead Boys,
Brass Construction,
Fear,
Suicide,
MDC,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cramps,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mr. Review,
The New Christs,
Minutemen,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Von Mondo,
Iggy Pop,
Half Japanese,
June of 44,
The Red Krayola,
The Angels of Light,
The Mummies,
Roxette,
The Evens,
Surgeon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Colin Newman,
Tim Buckley,
The Neon Judgement,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Durutti Column,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.