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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Dave Gahan to the punk 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Gong,
The Searchers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cramps,
Glenn Branca,
Donald Byrd,
Pantytec,
Bill Near,
Peter and Kerry,
Camouflage,
Slave,
The Happenings,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Intrusion,
The Standells,
Vladislav Delay,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
The Mummies,
Robert Hood,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Normal,
The Mojo Men,
Leonard Cohen,
The Misunderstood,
Niagra,
Hashim,
Aaron Thompson,
Man Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Model 500,
John Coltrane,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red,
Bobby Byrd,
Oblivians,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Banda Bassotti,
Blossom Toes,
Jacques Brel,
Isaac Hayes,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
Jawbox,
The J.B.'s,
Funky Four + One,
Pierre Henry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anthony Braxton,
Mission of Burma,
Oneida,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.