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 Portugal and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Mummies to the electroclash 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio,
Royal Trux,
The Remains,
Amon Düül II,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Germs,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
Curtis Mayfield,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultra Naté,
Fad Gadget,
Model 500,
Rekid,
10cc,
K-Klass,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Moleskins,
Thompson Twins,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Faraquet,
Swell Maps,
The J.B.'s,
The Human League,
Anthony Braxton,
Saccharine Trust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eli Mardock,
Todd Terry,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
KRS-One,
Roxy Music,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Bill Near,
Harry Pussy,
OOIOO,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
Groovy Waters,
Morten Harket,
Warsaw,
The Last Poets,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Can,
Ultravox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.