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 Cyprus and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Wasted Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
Janne Schatter,
Animal Collective,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camouflage,
Scrapy,
The Saints,
E-Dancer,
John Lydon,
Los Fastidios,
Scientists,
Heaven 17,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
T. Rex,
The Shadows of Knight,
Prince Buster,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Techniques,
Jerry's Kids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Yaz,
Liliput,
UT,
Half Japanese,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Dual Sessions,
This Heat,
The Kinks,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
David McCallum,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang Green,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ponytail,
Y Pants,
Newcleus,
Talk Talk,
Rotary Connection,
Oblivians,
Mad Mike,
Crime,
Jacques Brel,
The Red Krayola,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Bar-Kays,
ABBA,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bad Manners,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
Ituana,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.