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 Kuwait and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül II record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delta 5,
John Holt,
A Certain Ratio,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Residents,
Babytalk,
Bauhaus,
Tres Demented,
The New Christs,
In Retrospect,
Susan Cadogan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
The Blackbyrds,
Grey Daturas,
The Gap Band,
Chrome,
Blossom Toes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Rundgren,
Boz Scaggs,
Royal Trux,
The Offenders,
Excepter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Severed Heads,
The Sonics,
Model 500,
Moebius,
The Moody Blues,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Circle Jerks,
Magazine,
Eurythmics,
Boredoms,
Swell Maps,
Marmalade,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
Agent Orange,
The Moleskins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
Mary Jane Girls,
FM Einheit,
Bobby Sherman,
These Immortal Souls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Hoover,
Procol Harum,
Leonard Cohen,
Spandau Ballet,
Public Enemy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Red Krayola,
Malaria!,
Thee Headcoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Electric Prunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.