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 Madagascar and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Smoke to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
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,
T. Rex,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
ABC,
Stetsasonic,
Soulsonic Force,
Whodini,
F. McDonald,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Crash Course in Science,
E-Dancer,
Jeff Mills,
Tim Buckley,
Peter & Gordon,
Franke,
The Motions,
The Residents,
Sam Rivers,
Visage,
The Dirtbombs,
Echospace,
Ultra Naté,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Letta Mbulu,
Hot Snakes,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
Sight & Sound,
Yazoo,
The Kinks,
Niagra,
Bauhaus,
Ten City,
The Happenings,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Q and Not U,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeru the Damaja,
Matthew Bourne,
Skarface,
Bobby Womack,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Swell Maps,
Frankie Knuckles,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Görl,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lower 48,
Urselle,
The Smiths,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.