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 Romania and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 chamberlin 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 Lower 48 to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Darondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson 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?
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
Ten City,
Man Parrish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Buzzcocks,
U.S. Maple,
Swans,
Suicide,
Brick,
The Modern Lovers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Henry Cow,
Delon & Dalcan,
KRS-One,
Sex Pistols,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Wake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rotary Connection,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bootsy Collins,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
Mandrill,
Bad Manners,
Spoonie Gee,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
a-ha,
ABC,
Heaven 17,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rosa Yemen,
Harmonia,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maurizio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris & Cosey,
Susan Cadogan,
Soulsonic Force,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skarface,
The Leaves,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
The Knickerbockers,
Sandy B,
The Pretty Things,
Parry Music,
The Moleskins,
Talk Talk,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.