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 El Salvador and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Divine Comedy to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin 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 harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Fortunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thompson Twins,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Agent Orange,
The Blackbyrds,
Severed Heads,
Mission of Burma,
Gabor Szabo,
Amazonics,
Shuggie Otis,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Peter and Kerry,
Half Japanese,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Inner City,
Peter & Gordon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sandy B,
Dark Day,
John Cale,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
UT,
Minor Threat,
Black Sheep,
Porter Ricks,
Brass Construction,
The Divine Comedy,
Mandrill,
The Walker Brothers,
Quadrant,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lalann,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bobby Sherman,
Joe Smooth,
Ludus,
Minnie Riperton,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Holt,
June Days,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wasted Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Axelrod,
Deepchord,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
Scan 7,
The Misunderstood,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.