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 Latvia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Zero Boys to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
Sly & The Family Stone,
H. Thieme,
Mark Hollis,
Faust,
Susan Cadogan,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
The Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
The Music Machine,
Arab on Radar,
The Monochrome Set,
Mad Mike,
Sun City Girls,
Trumans Water,
Moby Grape,
Stetsasonic,
The Count Five,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fall,
Fela Kuti,
Japan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Barrington Levy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lungfish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Goldenarms,
Tim Buckley,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-102,
Pagans,
Scan 7,
Radio Birdman,
Average White Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cluster,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Leaves,
World's Most,
Tubeway Army,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Flag,
Basic Channel,
Anthony Braxton,
Boredoms,
Make Up,
June of 44,
Visage,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.