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 Paraguay and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fuzztones to the rock 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Swell Maps,
The Blackbyrds,
The Index,
The Standells,
Excepter,
Arcadia,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eurythmics,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
The Remains,
B.T. Express,
Nick Fraelich,
Nils Olav,
The Tremeloes,
Audionom,
Ronnie Foster,
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
K-Klass,
New Order,
Connie Case,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Human League,
Derrick Morgan,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Prince Buster,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Joe Finger,
Skaos,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultra Naté,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Ohio Players,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
Quantec,
Wings,
Sound Behaviour,
Glenn Branca,
Motorama,
Pagans,
Popol Vuh,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Radio Birdman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brass Construction,
The Saints,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.