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 Iraq and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Hot Snakes to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Minny Pops,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Quando Quango,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Schoolly D,
Fugazi,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gabor Szabo,
John Lydon,
The Black Dice,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
Dave Gahan,
Little Man,
Marc Almond,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
F. McDonald,
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Skaos,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Copeland,
The American Breed,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bronski Beat,
Laurel Aitken,
Leonard Cohen,
the Bar-Kays,
cv313,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Cale,
World's Most,
The Busters,
Ituana,
The Blackbyrds,
Erasure,
Moss Icon,
Aural Exciters,
Bizarre Inc.,
Deadbeat,
The Grass Roots,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minutemen,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronnie Foster,
The Beau Brummels,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.