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 Mexico and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 808 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 Stiv Bators to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Blancmange,
Goldenarms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Lakeside,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
Oblivians,
Fela Kuti,
The Pretty Things,
Suicide,
Interpol,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Rekid,
Big Daddy Kane,
Von Mondo,
Ice-T,
The Associates,
Marc Almond,
Donny Hathaway,
Darondo,
The Smoke,
The Cure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yaz,
the Swans,
Nils Olav,
Erasure,
Black Pus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter & Gordon,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
Fad Gadget,
The Knickerbockers,
Alison Limerick,
Arthur Verocai,
Easy Going,
Infiniti,
Unwound,
Sugar Minott,
The Mojo Men,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oneida,
10cc,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.