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 Comoros and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slits to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
Nils Olav,
Simply Red,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Grass Roots,
Black Moon,
Joe Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Human League,
Ronan,
Index,
Bad Manners,
The Sonics,
Von Mondo,
Smog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cameo,
The Skatalites,
Young Marble Giants,
Al Stewart,
The Leaves,
Electric Prunes,
Jandek,
Depeche Mode,
The Monochrome Set,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Smiths,
KRS-One,
Average White Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bluetip,
Country Teasers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
OOIOO,
Moss Icon,
Blossom Toes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ultravox,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Little Man,
Das Ding,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fall,
Essential Logic,
Crooked Eye,
June of 44,
Peter and Kerry,
Anthony Braxton,
Accadde A,
10cc,
Patti Smith,
The Mojo Men,
Echospace,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.