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 Brazil and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Arthur Verocai to the grunge 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
the Normal,
Groovy Waters,
Brand Nubian,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Eurythmics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Evens,
Can,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skriet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ice-T,
The Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter & Gordon,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Invisible,
Index,
Warren Ellis,
The Saints,
Sex Pistols,
cv313,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
New Age Steppers,
the Human League,
Technova,
The Red Krayola,
Depeche Mode,
The Skatalites,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Martian,
Rekid,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tres Demented,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
The Index,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Don Cherry,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Christie,
Thompson Twins,
Janne Schatter,
Popol Vuh,
Slick Rick,
The Fire Engines,
Gong,
Audionom,
Skarface,
Warsaw,
John Coltrane,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.