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 Suriname and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Inner City,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bill Wells,
Brand Nubian,
F. McDonald,
The Human League,
kango's stein massive,
Black Flag,
The Evens,
Danielle Patucci,
Severed Heads,
Pantaleimon,
The Invisible,
The Move,
Brothers Johnson,
Stetsasonic,
This Heat,
The Kinks,
Radiohead,
Gang of Four,
DJ Sneak,
Howard Jones,
New York Dolls,
Swell Maps,
Fat Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dirtbombs,
Marine Girls,
John Foxx,
Sound Behaviour,
Mantronix,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deadbeat,
Vainqueur,
The American Breed,
Amon Düül,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Wake,
In Retrospect,
Crime,
Sällskapet,
U.S. Maple,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
Josef K,
James Chance & The Contortions,
One Last Wish,
Section 25,
Cheater Slicks,
Loose Ends,
Fear,
Absolute Body Control,
Frankie Knuckles,
CMW,
Model 500,
Todd Rundgren,
Sparks,
Glenn Branca,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.