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 Somalia and from Portland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Zapp to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
Crispy Ambulance,
Severed Heads,
Zapp,
Bootsy Collins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jacob Miller,
Qualms,
cv313,
Wire,
The Evens,
Yaz,
Excepter,
H. Thieme,
Robert Görl,
the Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Marmalade,
Blake Baxter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Sneak,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultravox,
Mad Mike,
Urselle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Basic Channel,
Minnie Riperton,
The Blackbyrds,
The Fugs,
The Angels of Light,
Schoolly D,
John Lydon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Brand Nubian,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Junior Murvin,
The Stooges,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Tears for Fears,
New Order,
the Association,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Electric Prunes,
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
The Beau Brummels,
Warren Ellis,
The Slackers,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Babytalk,
Chris Corsano,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.