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 Antigua and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cheater Slicks to the disco 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Desert Stars,
Visage,
Goldenarms,
The Gun Club,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Little Man,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
Procol Harum,
Sugar Minott,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Amon Düül,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kaleidoscope,
FM Einheit,
Grey Daturas,
Nirvana,
John Cale,
Kenny Larkin,
The Neon Judgement,
Kerrie Biddell,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moebius,
The Pretty Things,
Reuben Wilson,
Colin Newman,
Arthur Verocai,
Mantronix,
Duran Duran,
Pierre Henry,
The New Christs,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
In Retrospect,
Loose Ends,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maurizio,
New Order,
Bobby Byrd,
The Smiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Raincoats,
Scratch Acid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang On A Can,
James White and The Blacks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Piero Umiliani,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Popol Vuh,
Adolescents,
Jacques Brel,
Todd Rundgren,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.