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 Sierra Leone and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord 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 the Bar-Kays to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Mars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Techniques,
Skaos,
The Residents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Clear Light,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Motorama,
Goldenarms,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Jawbox,
The Red Krayola,
Charles Mingus,
Echospace,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bluetip,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moss Icon,
Funkadelic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Fugazi,
The Trojans,
Y Pants,
Visage,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon,
UT,
The Buckinghams,
The Happenings,
Bill Near,
Amon Düül,
Wire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Subhumans,
Whodini,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
Aaron Thompson,
Erasure,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ice-T,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Max Romeo,
The Blackbyrds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Leaves,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.