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 Gabon and from Delhi.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Girls At Our Best! to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
New York Dolls,
Quantec,
Skaos,
The Real Kids,
Popol Vuh,
Fela Kuti,
Eurythmics,
The Selecter,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
Joyce Sims,
The Cowsills,
Bronski Beat,
Warren Ellis,
The Five Americans,
Joy Division,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Saccharine Trust,
Gong,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
CMW,
Tubeway Army,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donny Hathaway,
Magazine,
Parry Music,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker,
Scientists,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Arcadia,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Brand Nubian,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
June Days,
Man Parrish,
X-101,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultravox,
Kaleidoscope,
This Heat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeff Lynne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sugar Minott,
Zero Boys,
The Wake,
Matthew Halsall,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.