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 Jordan and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Harry Pussy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Thompson Twins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Motions,
Max Romeo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
New Age Steppers,
Siglo XX,
The Electric Prunes,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
Lungfish,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Prunes,
Grey Daturas,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Human League,
Rites of Spring,
Zapp,
Eli Mardock,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Red Krayola,
OOIOO,
Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Scratch Acid,
Radio Birdman,
Young Marble Giants,
Yaz,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott,
Aswad,
The Five Americans,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Remains,
Peter and Kerry,
Wings,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Association,
48th St. Collective,
Duran Duran,
Bush Tetras,
Country Teasers,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young,
John Lydon,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.