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 Iceland and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Moby Grape to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Hood,
Depeche Mode,
Yusef Lateef,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Blancmange,
Monolake,
Boredoms,
The Velvet Underground,
Joey Negro,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Camberwell Now,
Cecil Taylor,
The Index,
Joe Smooth,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Near,
the Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
The Moody Blues,
Rekid,
Soul II Soul,
Eve St. Jones,
New Order,
The Leaves,
Eurythmics,
Surgeon,
Pulsallama,
Hardrive,
Howard Jones,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
cv313,
ABBA,
Ultravox,
Davy DMX,
The Real Kids,
Average White Band,
Jacques Brel,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
World's Most,
Icehouse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
ABC,
Matthew Bourne,
Reagan Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Smiths,
Public Enemy,
MDC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Freddie Wadling,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Liliput,
A Certain Ratio,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kaleidoscope,
Gichy Dan,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.