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 Iceland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Juan Atkins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Pretty Things,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Fluxion,
Eric Dolphy,
Terry Callier,
Gabor Szabo,
Jerry's Kids,
Young Marble Giants,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Boz Scaggs,
Agent Orange,
Reuben Wilson,
Motorama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
Iggy Pop,
Slick Rick,
Fugazi,
Mad Mike,
Eden Ahbez,
Albert Ayler,
Duran Duran,
Joensuu 1685,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lightning Bolt,
Peter and Kerry,
Erykah Badu,
The Raincoats,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bob Dylan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Move,
Kaleidoscope,
New Age Steppers,
This Heat,
The Black Dice,
Outsiders,
The Invisible,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker,
CMW,
Howard Jones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Talk Talk,
The Martian,
Mandrill,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
David McCallum,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.