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 China and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Tears for Fears to the jazz 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Jeff Mills,
10cc,
kango's stein massive,
David Bowie,
Brass Construction,
Scrapy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faust,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Raincoats,
Steve Hackett,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
John Lydon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Franke,
X-101,
X-102,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
Sister Nancy,
Subhumans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Pus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang of Four,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Seeds,
The Searchers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
the Human League,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Kinks,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Audionom,
Duran Duran,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moebius,
The Cure,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jawbox,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Wake,
Robert Wyatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.