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 Grenada and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Barbara Tucker to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
David Bowie,
JFA,
The Angels of Light,
U.S. Maple,
Harpers Bizarre,
Severed Heads,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Flag,
Banda Bassotti,
Rapeman,
Negative Approach,
Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
Morten Harket,
Aswad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Jerry Gold Smith,
kango's stein massive,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Youth Brigade,
Nirvana,
Johnny Clarke,
Gang Gang Dance,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gang of Four,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Quando Quango,
Adolescents,
Harry Pussy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Anakelly,
Spandau Ballet,
Dave Gahan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Mills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
FM Einheit,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bad Manners,
The Red Krayola,
Motorama,
Q65,
Rekid,
L. Decosne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Pretty Things,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Amon Düül,
Amon Düül II,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Heaven 17,
Electric Prunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.