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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Glasgow.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 These Immortal Souls to the electroclash 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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
Sparks,
Japan,
Oblivians,
Kurtis Blow,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Throbbing Gristle,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Gong,
Heaven 17,
Anakelly,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
U.S. Maple,
Silicon Teens,
Graham Central Station,
The Seeds,
Smog,
Fugazi,
D'Angelo,
Siglo XX,
The Stooges,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swell Maps,
Kerri Chandler,
kango's stein massive,
Pantaleimon,
Juan Atkins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Parry Music,
the Soft Cell,
Mary Jane Girls,
Wally Richardson,
X-102,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gabor Szabo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
Eli Mardock,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
John Foxx,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
Brand Nubian,
Slick Rick,
Nik Kershaw,
A Certain Ratio,
Q and Not U,
Blancmange,
Marmalade,
Circle Jerks,
Alton Ellis,
The Fortunes,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.