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 Bahamas and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Reuben Wilson to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Blossom Toes,
The Divine Comedy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kas Product,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Hood,
Lou Reed,
Talk Talk,
Bill Near,
Moebius,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
Fad Gadget,
June of 44,
Moss Icon,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
Magma,
The Mummies,
Davy DMX,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
June Days,
Drexciya,
Agent Orange,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sarah Menescal,
Stereo Dub,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mars,
This Heat,
Slick Rick,
Archie Shepp,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeff Mills,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Christie,
Niagra,
The Raincoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sun City Girls,
JFA,
Arab on Radar,
The Busters,
OOIOO,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül II,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Evens,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Quadrant,
Rod Modell,
The Music Machine,
Loose Ends,
Procol Harum,
Organ,
Circle Jerks,
Wire,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.