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 Japan and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 808 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
Carl Craig,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantytec,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
Boz Scaggs,
June Days,
Television,
Rod Modell,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
Quadrant,
Freddie Wadling,
Zapp,
Can,
Chris & Cosey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Cure,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Sherman,
Amazonics,
Guru Guru,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
Faust,
X-101,
Nik Kershaw,
Moebius,
Interpol,
Intrusion,
Lakeside,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Moody Blues,
Model 500,
Masters at Work,
MDC,
New York Dolls,
Circle Jerks,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
Mark Hollis,
Davy DMX,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Clear Light,
Von Mondo,
Erykah Badu,
Lightning Bolt,
Juan Atkins,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mummies,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.