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 Marshall Islands and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Absolute Body Control to the dance 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
MDC,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Desert Stars,
Ten City,
Country Teasers,
Alphaville,
Circle Jerks,
Scott Walker,
R.M.O.,
Quadrant,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minny Pops,
Von Mondo,
Unwound,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
Reuben Wilson,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Althea and Donna,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
Ornette Coleman,
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Nils Olav,
ABC,
The Trojans,
Janne Schatter,
Loose Ends,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Eric Dolphy,
The Walker Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Godley & Creme,
Dawn Penn,
Pagans,
Morten Harket,
Dave Gahan,
The Motions,
The Velvet Underground,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
John Lydon,
Icehouse,
The Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faust,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sällskapet,
The Zeros,
The Litter,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.