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 Andorra and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Aswad,
Dual Sessions,
Minor Threat,
Infiniti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slits,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
Brand Nubian,
Sun City Girls,
Lyres,
Little Man,
Rod Modell,
Stockholm Monsters,
R.M.O.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Bill Near,
Jawbox,
a-ha,
Joey Negro,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Jimmy McGriff,
T. Rex,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Ponytail,
Ornette Coleman,
Suburban Knight,
Metal Thangz,
The Skatalites,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeff Mills,
Chris Corsano,
Mandrill,
Cymande,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Quantec,
The Monochrome Set,
Das Ding,
Siglo XX,
The Last Poets,
Crispy Ambulance,
Loose Ends,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crime,
Bobby Sherman,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pantytec,
The Gladiators,
Quadrant,
The Move,
Deepchord,
Harry Pussy,
Ronan,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.