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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Lightning Bolt to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Anthony Braxton,
Hoover,
Graham Central Station,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Almond,
Soft Cell,
Buzzcocks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Pretty Things,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
Zapp,
Soul II Soul,
Cameo,
Kaleidoscope,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rekid,
The Slackers,
Arthur Verocai,
Donny Hathaway,
Cybotron,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Todd Terry,
Average White Band,
Morten Harket,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Joe Smooth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Roger Hodgson,
The Selecter,
Animal Collective,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nirvana,
T.S.O.L.,
Boz Scaggs,
The Victims,
David Axelrod,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Swans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sex Pistols,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Normal,
Main Source,
Underground Resistance,
Tommy Roe,
the Germs,
Outsiders,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Modern Lovers,
John Foxx,
Au Pairs,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.