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 Seychelles and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Misunderstood to the electroclash 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
Das Ding,
One Last Wish,
The Index,
Gil Scott Heron,
DJ Sneak,
Quando Quango,
The Offenders,
Black Sheep,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gang Green,
Loose Ends,
Morten Harket,
Tropical Tobacco,
Siglo XX,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
Sandy B,
Joyce Sims,
Yazoo,
Yellowson,
The Fugs,
Crash Course in Science,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fad Gadget,
The Seeds,
Steve Hackett,
Letta Mbulu,
Bill Wells,
Pantytec,
Lungfish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Soft Cell,
The Mighty Diamonds,
KRS-One,
Bootsy Collins,
B.T. Express,
X-Ray Spex,
Mad Mike,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eve St. Jones,
Arthur Verocai,
The Stooges,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters,
A Certain Ratio,
Ken Boothe,
ABBA,
Pagans,
Marvin Gaye,
Brand Nubian,
The Sound,
Charles Mingus,
The Gap Band,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Bill Near,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.