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 Nicaragua and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne 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 rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
OOIOO,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
The Trojans,
Surgeon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wally Richardson,
Amazonics,
The Monks,
Radio Birdman,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
Rekid,
The Leaves,
Reuben Wilson,
H. Thieme,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Hood,
Moss Icon,
Black Moon,
Hot Snakes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quantec,
Camberwell Now,
The Names,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pierre Henry,
Frankie Knuckles,
Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Bananas,
Crooked Eye,
Maleditus Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
Yellowson,
ABBA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Shuggie Otis,
Roger Hodgson,
Johnny Osbourne,
cv313,
Connie Case,
Electric Light Orchestra,
DJ Sneak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tropical Tobacco,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi,
Hoover,
Television Personalities,
Althea and Donna,
The Raincoats,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
The Cramps,
Reagan Youth,
Whodini,
Bang On A Can,
Tomorrow,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.