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 Sri Lanka and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Henry Cow,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Magazine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Laurel Aitken,
Eurythmics,
Absolute Body Control,
Malaria!,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nico,
Graham Central Station,
The Velvet Underground,
Lakeside,
Gabor Szabo,
The Standells,
Clear Light,
Dave Gahan,
Scion,
Jeru the Damaja,
The United States of America,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Silicon Teens,
The Gladiators,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The J.B.'s,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
Thompson Twins,
Nick Fraelich,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
Davy DMX,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aswad,
Nas,
Television,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
Y Pants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pere Ubu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Walker Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lucky Dragons,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Gang Dance,
kango's stein massive,
Wasted Youth,
Blancmange,
Angry Samoans,
Livin' Joy,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.