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 Samoa and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the oboe 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 Al Stewart to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joey Negro,
H. Thieme,
Marc Almond,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
Television,
Newcleus,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
Thee Headcoats,
Eurythmics,
Section 25,
Roxy Music,
Black Moon,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Make Up,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Flesh Eaters,
DNA,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
the Soft Cell,
Sister Nancy,
Connie Case,
Reagan Youth,
Guru Guru,
Pylon,
Carl Craig,
Desert Stars,
Max Romeo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Rundgren,
The Invisible,
Stiv Bators,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Techniques,
Skriet,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scott Walker,
Siglo XX,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Slits,
Tubeway Army,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry's Kids,
The Raincoats,
The Fall,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
Half Japanese,
Tim Buckley,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.