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 Lesotho and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 sitar 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 Model 500 to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
The Cowsills,
Boredoms,
Swans,
Byron Stingily,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Minnie Riperton,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
Suicide,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thompson Twins,
Eve St. Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Little Man,
Frankie Knuckles,
Stetsasonic,
Schoolly D,
a-ha,
Saccharine Trust,
Idris Muhammad,
Kayak,
Roger Hodgson,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Adolescents,
La Düsseldorf,
Maurizio,
Joey Negro,
Eden Ahbez,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Last Poets,
The Vogues,
Camberwell Now,
Bill Wells,
The Young Rascals,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Near,
Lindisfarne,
The Modern Lovers,
Ludus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yaz,
John Holt,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bad Manners,
The Motions,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Excepter,
The Misunderstood,
The Standells,
Blancmange,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.