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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
The Victims,
Cheater Slicks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Dawn Penn,
Quadrant,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Toni Rubio,
Wolf Eyes,
Young Marble Giants,
Little Man,
Talk Talk,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sex Pistols,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Birthday Party,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Almond,
Whodini,
Japan,
The Black Dice,
Procol Harum,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gang of Four,
Skarface,
Dave Gahan,
Spandau Ballet,
The Gun Club,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Barrington Levy,
Rosa Yemen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Unrelated Segments,
The J.B.'s,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Godley & Creme,
This Heat,
Interpol,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Minutemen,
Quantec,
Alison Limerick,
These Immortal Souls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun City Girls,
Bill Near,
Quando Quango,
Audionom,
Zapp,
Technova,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Style,
Saccharine Trust,
X-Ray Spex,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.