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 Ukraine and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 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 Harpers Bizarre to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
Roger Hodgson,
Black Flag,
The Divine Comedy,
The Gladiators,
The Move,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
The Techniques,
Iggy Pop,
Judy Mowatt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Juan Atkins,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Tom Boy,
The Vogues,
The Trojans,
Barry Ungar,
Nirvana,
Joe Finger,
Fat Boys,
Country Teasers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Liliput,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Count Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Womack,
Charles Mingus,
Janne Schatter,
Matthew Halsall,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visage,
Alton Ellis,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eli Mardock,
Peter and Kerry,
Ten City,
Eden Ahbez,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Suicide,
Stetsasonic,
Television Personalities,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Beau Brummels,
Grey Daturas,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
The Angels of Light,
Neu!,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.