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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nik Kershaw to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin 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 oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Oblivians,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!,
Black Sheep,
Jacques Brel,
Surgeon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
Jerry's Kids,
Quando Quango,
Bob Dylan,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lightning Bolt,
The Stooges,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
Colin Newman,
Scan 7,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Wally Richardson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Count Five,
The Martian,
Mark Hollis,
The Names,
Fad Gadget,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dead C,
Rhythm & Sound,
Alice Coltrane,
Jeff Lynne,
New Age Steppers,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Selecter,
Magma,
Index,
Whodini,
The Beau Brummels,
Depeche Mode,
Chris Corsano,
Sight & Sound,
Technova,
Suicide,
Ponytail,
Albert Ayler,
Judy Mowatt,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.