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 Mauritius and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Lyon and Stockholm.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rites of Spring,
Ice-T,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
Fat Boys,
Make Up,
F. McDonald,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Moon,
The Smiths,
Interpol,
Severed Heads,
Flamin' Groovies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gong,
Tres Demented,
Infiniti,
Popol Vuh,
Whodini,
Motorama,
Aloha Tigers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Smoke,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Piero Umiliani,
Blake Baxter,
UT,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
Stereo Dub,
DJ Sneak,
Arab on Radar,
Rekid,
Bobby Byrd,
Eli Mardock,
Grauzone,
Smog,
Peter and Kerry,
Drexciya,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn,
The Monks,
The Seeds,
Eddi Front,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Grey Daturas,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
The Gap Band,
Ten City,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.