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 Kuwait and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Avey Tare to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drive Like Jehu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stiv Bators,
Ralphi Rosario,
Audionom,
The Victims,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
Zero Boys,
The Saints,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Terry Callier,
Gang Gang Dance,
Skriet,
a-ha,
Brothers Johnson,
The Human League,
Minor Threat,
Jawbox,
the Sonics,
Gichy Dan,
X-Ray Spex,
ABC,
Bobby Sherman,
Country Teasers,
Black Bananas,
Ohio Players,
Deadbeat,
kango's stein massive,
Josef K,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Oneida,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
Animal Collective,
Quadrant,
Gong,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Andrew Hill,
Rapeman,
Ponytail,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wire,
X-102,
the Bar-Kays,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Al Stewart,
U.S. Maple,
The Misunderstood,
The Slackers,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
Flash Fearless,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum,
Joy Division,
Bobby Byrd,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.