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 Australia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Skarface to the disco 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Soft Cell,
Cameo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Barracudas,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Görl,
Little Man,
E-Dancer,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry's Kids,
Guru Guru,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pierre Henry,
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Human League,
James White and The Blacks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Amon Düül,
Ituana,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Blackbyrds,
Underground Resistance,
Juan Atkins,
Mandrill,
Joyce Sims,
Vladislav Delay,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Niagra,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
Sällskapet,
Kerri Chandler,
Slick Rick,
K-Klass,
Ossler,
Supertramp,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marc Almond,
Livin' Joy,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip,
Japan,
Roger Hodgson,
Andrew Hill,
Delon & Dalcan,
Junior Murvin,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.