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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Cairo.
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 Stockholm and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Depeche Mode to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
Toni Rubio,
Pierre Henry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Sixth Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
Minny Pops,
Spandau Ballet,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül II,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bauhaus,
Quadrant,
Au Pairs,
Iggy Pop,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Invisible,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Todd Terry,
Niagra,
The United States of America,
Bob Dylan,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
June Days,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cameo,
The Count Five,
Man Parrish,
The New Christs,
Rufus Thomas,
Eddi Front,
The Monks,
Franke,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marine Girls,
Deakin,
Blancmange,
Young Marble Giants,
Roy Ayers,
Reagan Youth,
Pole,
Swans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quantec,
Unwound,
Desert Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
LL Cool J,
Joensuu 1685,
Cheater Slicks,
the Germs,
Marc Almond,
Leonard Cohen,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.