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 Peru and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 X-101 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
Subhumans,
Tubeway Army,
The Divine Comedy,
Country Teasers,
Moebius,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
Janne Schatter,
Crime,
The Dave Clark Five,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
These Immortal Souls,
Laurel Aitken,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cheater Slicks,
Nirvana,
Clear Light,
The Skatalites,
The Monks,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
Fugazi,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Neon Judgement,
Bobby Womack,
The Flesh Eaters,
Malaria!,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stereo Dub,
Jandek,
Inner City,
Cameo,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
Morten Harket,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marvin Gaye,
Vladislav Delay,
Dave Gahan,
Susan Cadogan,
Godley & Creme,
Eddi Front,
Sister Nancy,
Quadrant,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Archie Shepp,
June Days,
Sam Rivers,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.