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 Venezuela and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brand Nubian to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James White and The Blacks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
the Human League,
Dark Day,
Model 500,
Los Fastidios,
Wasted Youth,
Easy Going,
The Neon Judgement,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thee Headcoats,
Piero Umiliani,
Average White Band,
Niagra,
The Mummies,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Beau Brummels,
Rites of Spring,
Alphaville,
Jeff Lynne,
Soulsonic Force,
Todd Terry,
Robert Hood,
Sparks,
Pulsallama,
a-ha,
Aural Exciters,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Almond,
L. Decosne,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bad Manners,
Slick Rick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Drexciya,
Kenny Larkin,
Maurizio,
Oblivians,
MDC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
T.S.O.L.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Parry Music,
Susan Cadogan,
Hoover,
the Soft Cell,
Mo-Dettes,
Anthony Braxton,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rapeman,
The Vogues,
Lyres,
Make Up,
Isaac Hayes,
Dual Sessions,
Black Bananas,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.