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 Greece and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
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 harpsichord 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 Sexual Harrassment to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
Matthew Halsall,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Japan,
Rites of Spring,
Grey Daturas,
The Stooges,
Camouflage,
Reuben Wilson,
Wasted Youth,
R.M.O.,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
Y Pants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Al Stewart,
Talk Talk,
Mars,
Livin' Joy,
Tom Boy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Harry Pussy,
Judy Mowatt,
Brothers Johnson,
the Soft Cell,
Visage,
Silicon Teens,
The Moody Blues,
Black Pus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
The Skatalites,
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Outsiders,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ornette Coleman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Freddie Wadling,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Faust,
Monks,
David Axelrod,
Cecil Taylor,
Guru Guru,
Minny Pops,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.