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 Angola and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mojo Men to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
This Heat,
FM Einheit,
The Victims,
Newcleus,
Lungfish,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pulsallama,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cymande,
Interpol,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
Yaz,
Wolf Eyes,
Loose Ends,
Judy Mowatt,
Roger Hodgson,
Grey Daturas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ten City,
Sugar Minott,
Section 25,
The Monochrome Set,
Marshall Jefferson,
Basic Channel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Prince Buster,
Jeff Mills,
Little Man,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Velvet Underground,
Sandy B,
Amazonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bauhaus,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun City Girls,
Excepter,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
Scan 7,
Zero Boys,
Max Romeo,
Ornette Coleman,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Seeds,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Görl,
The Moody Blues,
Fear,
The Walker Brothers,
John Lydon,
Magazine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Deepchord,
The Buckinghams,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.