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 Azerbaijan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 arpeggiator 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 Misunderstood to the jazz 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Colin Newman,
Bobby Byrd,
Massinfluence,
The Fall,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Man Parrish,
The Names,
Dual Sessions,
Eve St. Jones,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
Banda Bassotti,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris Corsano,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The American Breed,
Sun City Girls,
Q and Not U,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
The Gun Club,
Drexciya,
Soul II Soul,
One Last Wish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oblivians,
Ituana,
Rotary Connection,
Supertramp,
X-101,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
The Cowsills,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
Can,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Babytalk,
Los Fastidios,
Scott Walker,
Mark Hollis,
EPMD,
Stockholm Monsters,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Todd Rundgren,
Todd Terry,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.