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 Tajikistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 David Bowie 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 Marc Almond to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics,
Rekid,
Cymande,
Pagans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare,
Amazonics,
Ohio Players,
Marmalade,
Sex Pistols,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cramps,
Camouflage,
Nik Kershaw,
DJ Sneak,
Black Pus,
Donald Byrd,
Blancmange,
Toni Rubio,
The Black Dice,
Panda Bear,
Arcadia,
The Blues Magoos,
AZ,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Buzzcocks,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gories,
H. Thieme,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sound Behaviour,
Erasure,
Ituana,
Reagan Youth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q65,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül II,
Bob Dylan,
Von Mondo,
Leonard Cohen,
Roxy Music,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sun City Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Altered Images,
Thompson Twins,
Susan Cadogan,
UT,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
World's Most,
Barbara Tucker,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.