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 Algeria and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Red Krayola to the rock 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things 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?
Marmalade,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fad Gadget,
the Normal,
The Fall,
Whodini,
Barry Ungar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Arthur Verocai,
Nico,
Technova,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Sonics,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pierre Henry,
One Last Wish,
Loose Ends,
Can,
Monolake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Depeche Mode,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
David Bowie,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Searchers,
Al Stewart,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
The Stooges,
The Walker Brothers,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
Pere Ubu,
The Modern Lovers,
Roxy Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gun Club,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Terry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ponytail,
Howard Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Chrome,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Porter Ricks,
Godley & Creme,
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Bobby Sherman,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.