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 Saudi Arabia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Tremeloes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza 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?
Dennis Brown,
The Star Department,
The Doors,
the Swans,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
The Angels of Light,
Sarah Menescal,
U.S. Maple,
Rekid,
Spandau Ballet,
Jacques Brel,
Ituana,
Marvin Gaye,
The Slits,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
Kayak,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pussy Galore,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Darondo,
Jeff Mills,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Almond,
Young Marble Giants,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
Pantytec,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gun Club,
Warsaw,
Brass Construction,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Spoonie Gee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Eli Mardock,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tears for Fears,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cameo,
Ultra Naté,
Tomorrow,
These Immortal Souls,
Sister Nancy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Delta 5,
Boz Scaggs,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.