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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Eden Ahbez to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blues Magoos,
Sun City Girls,
Jeff Mills,
The Smoke,
Soft Cell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ossler,
Sam Rivers,
Smog,
Bluetip,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hasil Adkins,
Interpol,
Jawbox,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
T.S.O.L.,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Intrusion,
Eddi Front,
The Dirtbombs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Darondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
Johnny Clarke,
Marine Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
June of 44,
UT,
One Last Wish,
Niagra,
Mandrill,
Gastr Del Sol,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Almond,
Ronan,
Boz Scaggs,
Shuggie Otis,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television Personalities,
Surgeon,
Goldenarms,
Jacques Brel,
10cc,
Danielle Patucci,
The United States of America,
Skriet,
Fugazi,
China Crisis,
Outsiders,
Wolf Eyes,
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.