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 Comoros and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
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 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 the Normal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Jandek,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sällskapet,
Trumans Water,
The American Breed,
X-102,
John Cale,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Urselle,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Can,
Terry Callier,
MC5,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Khruangbin,
Hardrive,
The Slackers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cheater Slicks,
Niagra,
Flash Fearless,
ABBA,
Smog,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Birthday Party,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Nirvana,
Adolescents,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers,
Reagan Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pere Ubu,
Hoover,
Faust,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
In Retrospect,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unrelated Segments,
Flipper,
Absolute Body Control,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Foxx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Litter,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.