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 Costa Rica and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Deadbeat,
The Monochrome Set,
Patti Smith,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
The Searchers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blancmange,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cure,
Bill Wells,
Visage,
Dave Gahan,
Joensuu 1685,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Trojans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Swell Maps,
Crime,
The Remains,
Quando Quango,
Ronan,
Howard Jones,
The Mummies,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alphaville,
Second Layer,
Easy Going,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barry Ungar,
Thompson Twins,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun City Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Oneida,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yazoo,
Tres Demented,
Juan Atkins,
Saccharine Trust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Black Dice,
Wally Richardson,
Glenn Branca,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
London Community Gospel Choir,
CMW,
the Germs,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
Lyres,
Country Teasers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.