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 Oman and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Intrusion to the electroclash 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Ronnie Foster,
This Heat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Basic Channel,
The Kinks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
Make Up,
Dark Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pierre Henry,
Colin Newman,
The Moleskins,
New Order,
Flipper,
Boredoms,
Donny Hathaway,
Maleditus Sound,
Clear Light,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
David Axelrod,
The Sonics,
Monks,
Stetsasonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
Lou Christie,
Vainqueur,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxette,
Jandek,
The Doobie Brothers,
K-Klass,
Eddi Front,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Warsaw,
Amazonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Essential Logic,
ABC,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Maurizio,
Rapeman,
Matthew Bourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sarah Menescal,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Cramps,
Desert Stars,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.