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 Tajikistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Bang On A Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Mark Hollis,
Robert Hood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Patti Smith,
Pagans,
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marmalade,
Tears for Fears,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joyce Sims,
Lower 48,
T. Rex,
Ronnie Foster,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Wake,
Skaos,
Half Japanese,
Tubeway Army,
Pole,
World's Most,
Sugar Minott,
Qualms,
Mary Jane Girls,
Junior Murvin,
Television,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roxy Music,
H. Thieme,
Kerri Chandler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mantronix,
The Tremeloes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Green,
Television Personalities,
LL Cool J,
Amon Düül II,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Human League,
June of 44,
Mandrill,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sonny Sharrock,
MC5,
Babytalk,
The Stooges,
Ken Boothe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Christie,
Dual Sessions,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Sister Nancy,
The Standells,
Wire,
Rapeman,
DJ Style,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.