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 Lithuania and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Busters to the grunge 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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Lungfish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
H. Thieme,
The Flesh Eaters,
Unwound,
Dennis Brown,
Mr. Review,
The Doors,
The Divine Comedy,
The Black Dice,
the Germs,
CMW,
the Soft Cell,
Massinfluence,
Anakelly,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Patti Smith,
Suicide,
Sex Pistols,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
a-ha,
Pulsallama,
Hot Snakes,
Bob Dylan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
Charles Mingus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faust,
Joensuu 1685,
Buzzcocks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eden Ahbez,
Roger Hodgson,
Terry Callier,
Dual Sessions,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Mills,
Bad Manners,
Wasted Youth,
Mars,
Zapp,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
Gang of Four,
Brick,
Schoolly D,
Technova,
The Martian,
Ultra Naté,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
DJ Sneak,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.