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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Soft Cell to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Underground Resistance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Excepter,
Eric Copeland,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pussy Galore,
Royal Trux,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fuzztones,
Oneida,
Soft Machine,
Marc Almond,
Connie Case,
Lower 48,
Essential Logic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
Young Marble Giants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mad Mike,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Scott Walker,
Eddi Front,
James Chance & The Contortions,
OOIOO,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Amon Düül,
The Grass Roots,
La Düsseldorf,
The Red Krayola,
UT,
The Zeros,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Metal Thangz,
MDC,
Simply Red,
Circle Jerks,
the Normal,
the Bar-Kays,
Intrusion,
JFA,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
Jeff Mills,
Brick,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
The Neon Judgement,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
Tomorrow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
Basic Channel,
Eurythmics,
The Mojo Men,
Radiohead,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.