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 South Africa and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tomorrow to the rap 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dirtbombs,
OOIOO,
The Dead C,
Organ,
Lower 48,
Wire,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
Reagan Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Amon Düül II,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erykah Badu,
Kaleidoscope,
Marcia Griffiths,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angry Samoans,
Max Romeo,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Almond,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Yazoo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
UT,
Junior Murvin,
One Last Wish,
Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Q65,
Erasure,
Warren Ellis,
World's Most,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
Model 500,
Darondo,
The Moody Blues,
Skarface,
Bauhaus,
The Music Machine,
Joy Division,
Jacob Miller,
Whodini,
Bobby Sherman,
Lungfish,
In Retrospect,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sandy B,
David McCallum,
Donald Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Cabaret Voltaire,
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
PIL,
R.M.O.,
Peter and Kerry,
Joyce Sims,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.