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 Iceland and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Spandau Ballet to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks 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?
Skarface,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
Severed Heads,
Hashim,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Yaz,
the Human League,
The Buckinghams,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scan 7,
The Grass Roots,
Suicide,
The Toasters,
One Last Wish,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Moon,
The Litter,
Fad Gadget,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Adolescents,
Jeff Lynne,
Sarah Menescal,
Cheater Slicks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pole,
Camouflage,
Animal Collective,
Brick,
Unwound,
Letta Mbulu,
Eurythmics,
Reuben Wilson,
Icehouse,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Second Layer,
Accadde A,
the Germs,
Ponytail,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Slits,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Danielle Patucci,
In Retrospect,
The Gories,
Jerry's Kids,
Bizarre Inc.,
Hot Snakes,
Alphaville,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Invisible,
Niagra,
Camberwell Now,
Cluster,
Joe Finger,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.