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 Vanuatu and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Malaria!,
Cluster,
Sarah Menescal,
Warsaw,
China Crisis,
Reuben Wilson,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ituana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Tres Demented,
Average White Band,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Wake,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Y Pants,
The Remains,
The Grass Roots,
Scan 7,
UT,
Gong,
Drexciya,
Alison Limerick,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Skatalites,
The Smoke,
The Move,
Liliput,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Siglo XX,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bluetip,
The Misunderstood,
Quando Quango,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Groovy Waters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kurtis Blow,
Buzzcocks,
The Smiths,
MDC,
Rapeman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Hill,
Radiopuhelimet,
Audionom,
Magma,
The Dirtbombs,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.