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 Azerbaijan and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Glenn Branca to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Pierre Henry,
Monolake,
Bootsy Collins,
Deakin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siglo XX,
R.M.O.,
Agent Orange,
The Slackers,
UT,
New Order,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television Personalities,
Fluxion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Alice Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
New Age Steppers,
Tres Demented,
the Soft Cell,
Cybotron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeru the Damaja,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
the Swans,
One Last Wish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bronski Beat,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Television,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
Magazine,
Eric B and Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Ice-T,
Skriet,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Massinfluence,
Cymande,
Anakelly,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Curtis Mayfield,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Shadows of Knight,
Au Pairs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angry Samoans,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Martian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.