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 Rwanda and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Sisters of Mercy to the rock 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
New York Dolls,
Max Romeo,
Clear Light,
kango's stein massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alphaville,
Nirvana,
Warren Ellis,
The Black Dice,
Agent Orange,
Todd Rundgren,
Negative Approach,
Slave,
The Moody Blues,
Inner City,
Liliput,
Grey Daturas,
The Gories,
the Normal,
Pere Ubu,
EPMD,
X-102,
Bobby Sherman,
Massinfluence,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
Tim Buckley,
Icehouse,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
Marvin Gaye,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cure,
Fad Gadget,
Fluxion,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
B.T. Express,
Sällskapet,
The Martian,
Scientists,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fuzztones,
Patti Smith,
Trumans Water,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Maurizio,
Lou Christie,
The Velvet Underground,
Bobby Womack,
Black Pus,
John Foxx,
Bauhaus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Vogues,
Wings,
Leonard Cohen,
Joey Negro,
Flipper,
Eric Dolphy,
Pulsallama,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.