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 Australia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Buckinghams to the disco 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gong,
John Foxx,
Model 500,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Kas Product,
Kaleidoscope,
The Red Krayola,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sparks,
The Misunderstood,
Arthur Verocai,
Infiniti,
This Heat,
Toni Rubio,
Tim Buckley,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Chris Corsano,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Görl,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Rotary Connection,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bauhaus,
Eden Ahbez,
The Fuzztones,
Quadrant,
Ossler,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tubeway Army,
The Zeros,
Girls At Our Best!,
MDC,
The Gladiators,
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dark Day,
Gang Starr,
Neu!,
Nick Fraelich,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Amazonics,
Easy Going,
Slave,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aural Exciters,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.