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 Saudi Arabia and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Misunderstood to the electroclash 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
U.S. Maple,
the Slits,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bronski Beat,
Q and Not U,
DJ Style,
Crash Course in Science,
UT,
The American Breed,
Technova,
Amon Düül II,
LL Cool J,
Crispy Ambulance,
The United States of America,
Lungfish,
Black Pus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Das Ding,
The Divine Comedy,
Television Personalities,
Bizarre Inc.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pulsallama,
Animal Collective,
Pere Ubu,
Magazine,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Last Poets,
Janne Schatter,
The Selecter,
Funkadelic,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minutemen,
Al Stewart,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scientists,
Camberwell Now,
Fatback Band,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mark Hollis,
Unwound,
K-Klass,
Warren Ellis,
Sound Behaviour,
The Music Machine,
Agent Orange,
Sight & Sound,
Lalann,
Visage,
Bobby Womack,
Organ,
Dave Gahan,
The Sonics,
kango's stein massive,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.