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 Cambodia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Robert Wyatt,
Robert Hood,
The Blues Magoos,
Essential Logic,
Trumans Water,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scrapy,
The Happenings,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jeru the Damaja,
D'Angelo,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Howard Jones,
Bush Tetras,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
Radio Birdman,
Eve St. Jones,
ABC,
Wire,
The Martian,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Au Pairs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Eating Sloth,
Animal Collective,
Depeche Mode,
Erasure,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Jandek,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
Cameo,
Leonard Cohen,
Fear,
T. Rex,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Clear Light,
The Seeds,
Zapp,
Deadbeat,
The Zeros,
Byron Stingily,
The Knickerbockers,
Ken Boothe,
Motorama,
Nas,
Minutemen,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Porter Ricks,
Wally Richardson,
the Soft Cell,
Roxette,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.