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 China and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sisters of Mercy to the grunge 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Matthew Halsall,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dirtbombs,
Unwound,
Pulsallama,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Kenny Larkin,
Zero Boys,
The Blues Magoos,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Monochrome Set,
Rekid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
U.S. Maple,
The Busters,
Popol Vuh,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Buzzcocks,
Ponytail,
Dave Gahan,
Janne Schatter,
Joensuu 1685,
Country Teasers,
Black Bananas,
LL Cool J,
48th St. Collective,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Cell,
Second Layer,
The Sonics,
One Last Wish,
Gang Green,
Josef K,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
The Slackers,
Toni Rubio,
Unrelated Segments,
Traffic Nightmare,
Procol Harum,
Deepchord,
Niagra,
The Monks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Erasure,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.