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 Philippines and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Black Sheep 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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Joey Negro,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
X-Ray Spex,
Ronan,
Cameo,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Lalann,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
The Walker Brothers,
The J.B.'s,
X-102,
Steve Hackett,
Scan 7,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tom Boy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Underground Resistance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Smog,
The New Christs,
Scrapy,
Spandau Ballet,
The Kinks,
Barrington Levy,
Average White Band,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Talk Talk,
Brick,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
Hashim,
Altered Images,
Kurtis Blow,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
Severed Heads,
Ituana,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kaleidoscope,
Model 500,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dark Day,
Radiopuhelimet,
DNA,
Maurizio,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.