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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the jazz 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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonny Sharrock,
The American Breed,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mars,
Massinfluence,
Tim Buckley,
June of 44,
Bluetip,
Blake Baxter,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronnie Foster,
The Knickerbockers,
Heaven 17,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
The Gories,
the Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Motions,
Janne Schatter,
Gichy Dan,
Arthur Verocai,
Morten Harket,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Television Personalities,
The Invisible,
Ten City,
Faust,
Loose Ends,
The Star Department,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mr. Review,
Kas Product,
Radiohead,
Ken Boothe,
Jimmy McGriff,
Darondo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Infiniti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Icehouse,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers,
Lungfish,
the Association,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Godley & Creme,
Silicon Teens,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kurtis Blow,
8 Eyed Spy,
Panda Bear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.