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 Antigua and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ornette Coleman to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Goldenarms,
The Black Dice,
David Axelrod,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Machine,
The American Breed,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siglo XX,
The Saints,
Max Romeo,
Black Flag,
Sight & Sound,
Carl Craig,
June Days,
Stereo Dub,
Bush Tetras,
Todd Rundgren,
Barbara Tucker,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald,
Television Personalities,
This Heat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Curtis Mayfield,
Franke,
Roy Ayers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Monochrome Set,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
The Birthday Party,
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Bobbi Humphrey,
B.T. Express,
MC5,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
The Durutti Column,
Deepchord,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Black Moon,
Cheater Slicks,
Thee Headcoats,
Audionom,
The Remains,
Hoover,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.