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 Tuvalu and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Michelle Simonal to the funk 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Pere Ubu,
Cal Tjader,
Roxette,
Dark Day,
Mad Mike,
The Five Americans,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Monochrome Set,
Hashim,
The Red Krayola,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mr. Review,
Marmalade,
Quantec,
Erasure,
Crash Course in Science,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Section 25,
Crooked Eye,
Television Personalities,
Matthew Bourne,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
Al Stewart,
Bauhaus,
Animal Collective,
Soft Machine,
Zero Boys,
The Raincoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Erykah Badu,
Harry Pussy,
Iggy Pop,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Standells,
Byron Stingily,
David Bowie,
Brand Nubian,
New York Dolls,
MDC,
The Names,
The Tremeloes,
Pussy Galore,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Siglo XX,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Starr,
The Knickerbockers,
Morten Harket,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Inner City,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.