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 New Zealand and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Unwound to the disco 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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Gong,
Eden Ahbez,
The Searchers,
Amon Düül,
Monks,
Henry Cow,
Nico,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erykah Badu,
Negative Approach,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fela Kuti,
John Coltrane,
Prince Buster,
June of 44,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultravox,
Joy Division,
Loose Ends,
The Five Americans,
Sugar Minott,
Moby Grape,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
Audionom,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Saints,
The Associates,
Skarface,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
Sex Pistols,
Silicon Teens,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
Radio Birdman,
Sister Nancy,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
Symarip,
Al Stewart,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Agitation Free,
Althea and Donna,
Supertramp,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes,
Tears for Fears,
Kurtis Blow,
LL Cool J,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Yusef Lateef,
Marine Girls,
The Electric Prunes,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.