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 Malta and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 linndrum 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the jazz 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
The Saints,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bluetip,
Graham Central Station,
Urselle,
Circle Jerks,
E-Dancer,
The Velvet Underground,
The Move,
Hasil Adkins,
Brand Nubian,
Matthew Bourne,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
The Dave Clark Five,
World's Most,
John Holt,
Roy Ayers,
the Human League,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Index,
Janne Schatter,
Minutemen,
Harmonia,
Suicide,
Boz Scaggs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gang of Four,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Howard Jones,
Ossler,
Malaria!,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Desert Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Pagans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lakeside,
Avey Tare,
Flash Fearless,
Sexual Harrassment,
Moby Grape,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobby Womack,
Bush Tetras,
Girls At Our Best!,
June Days,
The Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
The Cowsills,
Yazoo,
The Star Department,
Magma,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.