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 Cape Verde and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 John Cale 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gap Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bill Wells,
Sparks,
JFA,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Erasure,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Freddie Wadling,
Cheater Slicks,
Robert Wyatt,
Underground Resistance,
Ten City,
The United States of America,
Chrome,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soft Machine,
Fat Boys,
K-Klass,
The Sound,
Colin Newman,
Pussy Galore,
Stiv Bators,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Guru Guru,
Bluetip,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Kinks,
Bob Dylan,
Todd Terry,
The Fortunes,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Green,
The Modern Lovers,
Television Personalities,
Audionom,
Scion,
Malaria!,
Dead Boys,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
The Tremeloes,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
The Mummies,
Steve Hackett,
One Last Wish,
Girls At Our Best!,
Harmonia,
Quando Quango,
The Fuzztones,
Sister Nancy,
Y Pants,
Robert Görl,
The Moody Blues,
Chris Corsano,
MC5,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.