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 Palau and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Roger Hodgson to the rock 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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Pole,
Yaz,
Parry Music,
The Remains,
Yusef Lateef,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Los Fastidios,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Amon Düül II,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kurtis Blow,
Gichy Dan,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
Laurel Aitken,
The United States of America,
Juan Atkins,
Nas,
Mars,
Vainqueur,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thompson Twins,
Fad Gadget,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cal Tjader,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
Supertramp,
Severed Heads,
Model 500,
Boogie Down Productions,
Max Romeo,
Schoolly D,
Tres Demented,
Gang of Four,
Heaven 17,
Anthony Braxton,
Soft Machine,
Bauhaus,
David McCallum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Buckinghams,
Harmonia,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
Sex Pistols,
Procol Harum,
Bush Tetras,
Drive Like Jehu,
Half Japanese,
Scratch Acid,
Stockholm Monsters,
Neu!,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.