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 San Marino and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Milan.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Moody Blues to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
The Dead C,
Terrestrial Tones,
Audionom,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Mojo Men,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mark Hollis,
Colin Newman,
Altered Images,
New Age Steppers,
The Standells,
Hardrive,
Minutemen,
cv313,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
Crispy Ambulance,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ken Boothe,
Von Mondo,
T. Rex,
Steve Hackett,
Barry Ungar,
Reuben Wilson,
Radiopuhelimet,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deepchord,
Vainqueur,
Suicide,
Minor Threat,
Cybotron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Names,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Popol Vuh,
Fad Gadget,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Kenny Larkin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry's Kids,
Joe Finger,
B.T. Express,
Deakin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Janne Schatter,
Supertramp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monolake,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.