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 Vanuatu and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tres Demented to the crunk 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oneida,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Agent Orange,
Panda Bear,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Unwound,
48th St. Collective,
Ossler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faraquet,
The Divine Comedy,
Urselle,
Sällskapet,
Wasted Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tubeway Army,
X-Ray Spex,
Matthew Halsall,
New Age Steppers,
Harmonia,
Tres Demented,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Icehouse,
This Heat,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Theoretical Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Drive Like Jehu,
Erykah Badu,
Bang On A Can,
Soft Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Second Layer,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlback,
Loose Ends,
Das Ding,
Lou Reed,
Wire,
Smog,
Bush Tetras,
Arcadia,
The Sound,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Altered Images,
Country Teasers,
The Standells,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.