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 Papua New Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Misunderstood,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fugazi,
Moby Grape,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
The Mummies,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Blossom Toes,
Adolescents,
The Index,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Sherman,
Joey Negro,
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Crash Course in Science,
Infiniti,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Donald Byrd,
The Techniques,
The Cowsills,
The Move,
Man Eating Sloth,
Silicon Teens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skriet,
Dorothy Ashby,
KRS-One,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Wally Richardson,
Scrapy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Inner City,
Bluetip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
World's Most,
Animal Collective,
Funkadelic,
Nirvana,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Royal Trux,
The Beau Brummels,
The Red Krayola,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mantronix,
Ornette Coleman,
Underground Resistance,
Grauzone,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.