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 Latvia and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 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 Nico to the jazz 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Invisible record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Andrew Hill,
Sparks,
Brass Construction,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Slick Rick,
Minutemen,
Yusef Lateef,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Delta 5,
Vladislav Delay,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sandy B,
Model 500,
Warsaw,
Newcleus,
This Heat,
Excepter,
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
Lungfish,
Niagra,
Quantec,
Das Ding,
Mission of Burma,
The Sonics,
The Gladiators,
China Crisis,
Sarah Menescal,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin,
Graham Central Station,
Jesper Dahlback,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roy Ayers,
Interpol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Monks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dark Day,
Agent Orange,
The Fuzztones,
Minnie Riperton,
Barbara Tucker,
Arthur Verocai,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pussy Galore,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.