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 Costa Rica and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Altered Images to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Rod Modell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Lou Reed,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
Robert Wyatt,
Crooked Eye,
Tim Buckley,
The Offenders,
Wolf Eyes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grey Daturas,
Neil Young,
Nik Kershaw,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jawbox,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Stiv Bators,
The Busters,
Ludus,
Maurizio,
Chris Corsano,
Juan Atkins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
World's Most,
MDC,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Banda Bassotti,
Main Source,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
Harry Pussy,
Radio Birdman,
Talk Talk,
the Association,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
John Coltrane,
Throbbing Gristle,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Stooges,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
Max Romeo,
Eden Ahbez,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.