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 Kuwait and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Au Pairs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Crispian St. Peters,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Hill,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Accadde A,
Vainqueur,
The Tremeloes,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Babytalk,
Eve St. Jones,
B.T. Express,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ponytail,
Nico,
Second Layer,
the Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
Gerry Rafferty,
E-Dancer,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Doors,
New Age Steppers,
PIL,
Slick Rick,
UT,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Monochrome Set,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aural Exciters,
The Stooges,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cramps,
Henry Cow,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rekid,
Bang On A Can,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
The Names,
Interpol,
Parry Music,
Marc Almond,
X-101,
The Durutti Column,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Make Up,
Don Cherry,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radiohead,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.