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 Germany and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 ABC to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
Black Flag,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
Tubeway Army,
The Count Five,
The Black Dice,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Grass Roots,
Godley & Creme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nas,
Yaz,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bad Manners,
Underground Resistance,
The Invisible,
LL Cool J,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
The Remains,
Lindisfarne,
Man Parrish,
Marmalade,
Ten City,
The Saints,
China Crisis,
Icehouse,
The Skatalites,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Five Americans,
Alphaville,
Anthony Braxton,
The Seeds,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scientists,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Fraelich,
Steve Hackett,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
The New Christs,
Soft Machine,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry's Kids,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.