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 Libya and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Tears for Fears to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Simply Red,
Man Eating Sloth,
B.T. Express,
Quando Quango,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks,
Camberwell Now,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Darondo,
Glenn Branca,
The Red Krayola,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Surgeon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Tremeloes,
Rapeman,
Can,
The Dead C,
Trumans Water,
Lakeside,
Quadrant,
Das Ding,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dave Gahan,
Desert Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
Tears for Fears,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Sherman,
Drexciya,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sonic Youth,
Barrington Levy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magazine,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smiths,
The Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Amon Düül,
Slave,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Smog,
Essential Logic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Byrd,
X-102,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soft Cell,
Parry Music,
New York Dolls,
Sugar Minott,
D'Angelo,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.