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 Montenegro and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Fatback Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All The Residents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Johnny Clarke,
Delta 5,
David Bowie,
Amon Düül II,
Deadbeat,
New York Dolls,
Popol Vuh,
The Monks,
Laurel Aitken,
Cal Tjader,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Electric Prunes,
Carl Craig,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
Marvin Gaye,
Tim Buckley,
Y Pants,
Fad Gadget,
Scratch Acid,
Motorama,
Frankie Knuckles,
Massinfluence,
The Leaves,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Piero Umiliani,
JFA,
Blake Baxter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
Vainqueur,
The Stooges,
R.M.O.,
The Music Machine,
Bad Manners,
Minnie Riperton,
Q and Not U,
Boz Scaggs,
Kayak,
the Normal,
New Order,
Con Funk Shun,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Archie Shepp,
Sun Ra,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Siglo XX,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pylon,
Todd Rundgren,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magazine,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.