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 Andorra and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the theremin 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 Blake Baxter to the rock 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Wasted Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Suburban Knight,
LL Cool J,
Moebius,
Massinfluence,
Ice-T,
Deadbeat,
Shoche,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
Eli Mardock,
Fatback Band,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Lyres,
Mark Hollis,
Reagan Youth,
a-ha,
Black Bananas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Simply Red,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kas Product,
The Last Poets,
kango's stein massive,
Guru Guru,
The Gun Club,
Black Sheep,
These Immortal Souls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Skatalites,
Lou Christie,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Swans,
Cymande,
the Sonics,
Khruangbin,
Lindisfarne,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry's Kids,
Boredoms,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young,
Minutemen,
Yaz,
Brothers Johnson,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
John Lydon,
Kaleidoscope,
Dawn Penn,
Lalann,
Dave Gahan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.