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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The Fuzztones,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Five Americans,
Graham Central Station,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Susan Cadogan,
Blossom Toes,
Young Marble Giants,
The Grass Roots,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Cale,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Isaac Hayes,
One Last Wish,
Eli Mardock,
Das Ding,
Junior Murvin,
B.T. Express,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The American Breed,
Kurtis Blow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DNA,
Connie Case,
Sight & Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
Brand Nubian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Unwound,
Groovy Waters,
Soft Machine,
Popol Vuh,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Hashim,
Archie Shepp,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Sarah Menescal,
The Gladiators,
Eric Dolphy,
The Selecter,
Faraquet,
Godley & Creme,
The Mojo Men,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Main Source,
The Litter,
The Slackers,
Peter & Gordon,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
the Normal,
Dave Gahan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.