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 United Kingdom and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
This Heat,
Prince Buster,
Boz Scaggs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Technova,
Eve St. Jones,
Masters at Work,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
Banda Bassotti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Main Source,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultimate Spinach,
Subhumans,
The Fortunes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
AZ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Beau Brummels,
David Axelrod,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
Bill Near,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Dual Sessions,
Dead Boys,
Pulsallama,
Newcleus,
The Angels of Light,
Crash Course in Science,
Loose Ends,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Red Krayola,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mars,
Moebius,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sight & Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Rotary Connection,
Tears for Fears,
The Last Poets,
Mandrill,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.