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 Swaziland and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Johannesburg.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Theoretical Girls to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
The Angels of Light,
Slick Rick,
Buzzcocks,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oblivians,
Stereo Dub,
The Standells,
Niagra,
Ohio Players,
Simply Red,
Ronan,
June Days,
The Gories,
Bronski Beat,
MDC,
MC5,
Marshall Jefferson,
Symarip,
Bobby Byrd,
The Pop Group,
kango's stein massive,
Bang On A Can,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Outsiders,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Leaves,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kayak,
The Fall,
Groovy Waters,
Sarah Menescal,
Aural Exciters,
Scott Walker,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
New Order,
Gabor Szabo,
Nirvana,
The Sonics,
Easy Going,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grauzone,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Make Up,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ponytail,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter and Kerry,
Freddie Wadling,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skriet,
Barry Ungar,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.