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 Kyrgyzstan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 L. Decosne to the rock 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ponytail,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stetsasonic,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rakim,
Desert Stars,
Symarip,
the Soft Cell,
Section 25,
Ludus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Moby Grape,
Bauhaus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
PIL,
Marcia Griffiths,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
The Birthday Party,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Radio Birdman,
Maleditus Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
Arcadia,
the Bar-Kays,
Simply Red,
Ultravox,
Anakelly,
Eve St. Jones,
Adolescents,
Monolake,
John Foxx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rapeman,
The Barracudas,
Tres Demented,
Harmonia,
Pantytec,
James White and The Blacks,
Idris Muhammad,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Glenn Branca,
Peter and Kerry,
Kenny Larkin,
John Lydon,
Wolf Eyes,
the Swans,
Cameo,
Fugazi,
Au Pairs,
Underground Resistance,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
ABC,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.