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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 synthesizer 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 Interpol to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Rekid,
Fluxion,
Camouflage,
Dave Gahan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crime,
Pet Shop Boys,
CMW,
Adolescents,
Eurythmics,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Maurizio,
Ludus,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
David Axelrod,
Scratch Acid,
The Golliwogs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Todd Terry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Faust,
Bill Wells,
New Age Steppers,
Bob Dylan,
Lebanon Hanover,
MDC,
The Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
EPMD,
Drexciya,
The Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
Kaleidoscope,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
Moss Icon,
Fear,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stockholm Monsters,
China Crisis,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Sherman,
Marmalade,
Hoover,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s,
The Monochrome Set,
Wings,
K-Klass,
the Soft Cell,
Jawbox,
Nik Kershaw,
Monks,
The Five Americans,
Oneida,
the Swans,
Section 25,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.