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 Samoa and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Desert Stars to the punk 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
Vainqueur,
Pole,
Infiniti,
Junior Murvin,
T. Rex,
Soul Sonic Force,
Metal Thangz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rites of Spring,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grey Daturas,
The Black Dice,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Al Stewart,
Bob Dylan,
Thompson Twins,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
Rosa Yemen,
Lou Christie,
Bill Wells,
FM Einheit,
Sarah Menescal,
Robert Hood,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Steve Hackett,
Dave Gahan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pulsallama,
Josef K,
Marcia Griffiths,
James White and The Blacks,
X-Ray Spex,
Skriet,
Dawn Penn,
Niagra,
AZ,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Accadde A,
Monks,
Lalann,
The Mojo Men,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Circle Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Newcleus,
The Move,
Isaac Hayes,
X-101,
Ralphi Rosario,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.