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 Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron 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 Banda Bassotti to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Youth Brigade,
Excepter,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang On A Can,
Yusef Lateef,
The Zeros,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
Amon Düül,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Index,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Outsiders,
Hasil Adkins,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
Mad Mike,
cv313,
Wasted Youth,
UT,
Lalann,
Soft Machine,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Loose Ends,
New Age Steppers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-102,
The Martian,
The Associates,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moleskins,
Quando Quango,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Circle Jerks,
Jeff Mills,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Toni Rubio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ituana,
Angry Samoans,
Subhumans,
Peter and Kerry,
The Star Department,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
Warsaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Eric Dolphy,
The Slackers,
The Modern Lovers,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.