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 Oman and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a FM Einheit record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mojo Men,
Bang On A Can,
This Heat,
Groovy Waters,
The Last Poets,
ABBA,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
Faraquet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joy Division,
Ash Ra Tempel,
a-ha,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cymande,
Soft Machine,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magma,
Loose Ends,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Victims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
The Moleskins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
Freddie Wadling,
Ossler,
The Offenders,
Eddi Front,
Von Mondo,
Cybotron,
Arcadia,
Model 500,
Janne Schatter,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Standells,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Matthew Bourne,
Wings,
Aloha Tigers,
B.T. Express,
Interpol,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scrapy,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
48th St. Collective,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dennis Brown,
Dual Sessions,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.