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 Kiribati and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Basic Channel to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delta 5,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grey Daturas,
Siglo XX,
Man Parrish,
Warsaw,
Suburban Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Dawn Penn,
The Dead C,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
The Names,
David Axelrod,
The Walker Brothers,
The Wake,
X-102,
John Cale,
Shoche,
Todd Rundgren,
Oneida,
Theoretical Girls,
Agent Orange,
A Certain Ratio,
Ossler,
K-Klass,
Y Pants,
T.S.O.L.,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Faraquet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pagans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Moby Grape,
The Birthday Party,
Wolf Eyes,
Minor Threat,
The Last Poets,
Section 25,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Real Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Fugazi,
Eddi Front,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Goldenarms,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Busters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Harry Pussy,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
Absolute Body Control,
Erykah Badu,
Lindisfarne,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.