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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Lou Reed 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 Stooges to the dance 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Procol Harum,
Erasure,
Simply Red,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
10cc,
Patti Smith,
Hoover,
Subhumans,
Sonic Youth,
Yaz,
Clear Light,
Marine Girls,
Y Pants,
Arab on Radar,
the Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cure,
Peter and Kerry,
Rod Modell,
Cameo,
Black Flag,
Maleditus Sound,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Skaos,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Fall,
Eurythmics,
Monolake,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Howard Jones,
B.T. Express,
cv313,
The Real Kids,
Arthur Verocai,
The Five Americans,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Gladiators,
Marshall Jefferson,
China Crisis,
The Standells,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
Henry Cow,
Morten Harket,
Agitation Free,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Residents,
Slick Rick,
Lee Hazlewood,
Quantec,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.