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 Malaysia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron 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 Crispian St. Peters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Kas Product,
Joy Division,
New Order,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rekid,
Scrapy,
Amon Düül II,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Robert Hood,
Accadde A,
The Gories,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Scientists,
Anthony Braxton,
Shoche,
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
JFA,
Faust,
Brothers Johnson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
Byron Stingily,
This Heat,
Pulsallama,
Yazoo,
Quantec,
The Fuzztones,
Dark Day,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare,
The Victims,
Inner City,
the Germs,
The Walker Brothers,
Thompson Twins,
Eden Ahbez,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Five Americans,
Porter Ricks,
The Beau Brummels,
L. Decosne,
CMW,
Pierre Henry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
Dave Gahan,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.