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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ 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 Isaac Hayes to the electroclash 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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Derrick May,
Hasil Adkins,
L. Decosne,
Eden Ahbez,
The Birthday Party,
Interpol,
Brand Nubian,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
The Modern Lovers,
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
Gang of Four,
The Human League,
Oneida,
The American Breed,
Erasure,
Groovy Waters,
The Happenings,
Make Up,
The Fugs,
The Kinks,
Livin' Joy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Prince Buster,
Cameo,
Nik Kershaw,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
Fluxion,
Sällskapet,
New York Dolls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kas Product,
Ronan,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Steve Hackett,
Toni Rubio,
Skaos,
Johnny Clarke,
Barbara Tucker,
Glenn Branca,
The Electric Prunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Liliput,
The Move,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mantronix,
Maleditus Sound,
Massinfluence,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
Sound Behaviour,
Mars,
The Names,
Graham Central Station,
Althea and Donna,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.