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 Sri Lanka and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Smiths to the techno 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mission of Burma,
Laurel Aitken,
The Toasters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gladiators,
Monks,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Neon Judgement,
Juan Atkins,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Foxx,
The Cure,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
The Angels of Light,
The Vogues,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Dolphy,
The Raincoats,
Sun Ra,
Fad Gadget,
Girls At Our Best!,
Desert Stars,
Nico,
Jerry's Kids,
Dave Gahan,
Interpol,
Lalo Schifrin,
Zapp,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Khruangbin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blossom Toes,
Scientists,
Black Flag,
Echospace,
The Gun Club,
the Association,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Leonard Cohen,
OOIOO,
The Modern Lovers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wasted Youth,
Schoolly D,
Arcadia,
E-Dancer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Los Fastidios,
Delon & Dalcan,
Swell Maps,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.