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 Germany and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Faraquet,
Stetsasonic,
Urselle,
Howard Jones,
Smog,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joyce Sims,
Yusef Lateef,
Eric Copeland,
Arthur Verocai,
Roxy Music,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Green,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Alton Ellis,
Von Mondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Outsiders,
Mr. Review,
Henry Cow,
Rites of Spring,
Brand Nubian,
June Days,
Joensuu 1685,
The Invisible,
Moby Grape,
Hashim,
The Count Five,
Wasted Youth,
The Vogues,
Wally Richardson,
Todd Terry,
Arab on Radar,
Underground Resistance,
Blake Baxter,
The Music Machine,
The Fugs,
T.S.O.L.,
Qualms,
Index,
Robert Görl,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dave Gahan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bill Near,
Slick Rick,
Minutemen,
Cameo,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deepchord,
Parry Music,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kenny Larkin,
Television Personalities,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Blossom Toes,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.