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 United Kingdom and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Popol Vuh to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Livin' Joy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Juan Atkins,
Average White Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Severed Heads,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camberwell Now,
The Index,
Robert Görl,
The Human League,
X-101,
Outsiders,
Delta 5,
Rakim,
Technova,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
The Dirtbombs,
Minor Threat,
The Litter,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Minutemen,
Soft Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
The New Christs,
Sugar Minott,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Television,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Amon Düül,
Scott Walker,
Quantec,
a-ha,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
Max Romeo,
The Motions,
Ornette Coleman,
Barbara Tucker,
John Holt,
Joe Smooth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marmalade,
The Neon Judgement,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.