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 Dominica and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin 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 Monks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bad Manners,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Residents,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
The Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Newcleus,
Easy Going,
Camouflage,
Nick Fraelich,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thompson Twins,
Youth Brigade,
Dawn Penn,
La Düsseldorf,
Althea and Donna,
Man Parrish,
John Coltrane,
Swans,
The Five Americans,
Popol Vuh,
Babytalk,
Inner City,
Fugazi,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Faust,
The Monks,
Scion,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
AZ,
Fatback Band,
Susan Cadogan,
Gabor Szabo,
Shuggie Otis,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Supertramp,
The Black Dice,
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Aural Exciters,
The Saints,
The Moody Blues,
Scrapy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Parry Music,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare,
Quantec,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gories,
Scientists,
Alton Ellis,
The Sonics,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.