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 Algeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Black Bananas to the grunge 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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stereo Dub record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Zapp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
The Real Kids,
Rekid,
Desert Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pantaleimon,
E-Dancer,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
John Holt,
Model 500,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Unwound,
Iggy Pop,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marmalade,
Wolf Eyes,
Deakin,
Eric Dolphy,
Minor Threat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Blues Magoos,
Massinfluence,
Wasted Youth,
The Trojans,
Von Mondo,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
Grauzone,
World's Most,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hoover,
The Mummies,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Knickerbockers,
Stetsasonic,
LL Cool J,
Scratch Acid,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brass Construction,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gong,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Standells,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Drive Like Jehu,
Boz Scaggs,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül II,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pagans,
The Smiths,
Sällskapet,
the Bar-Kays,
the Germs,
Clear Light,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.