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 Jamaica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin 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 Roxy Music to the jazz 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Sugar Minott,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Flag,
Crispy Ambulance,
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Aswad,
The Smoke,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Deadbeat,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Associates,
R.M.O.,
The Smiths,
Skarface,
Lucky Dragons,
The Zeros,
Grey Daturas,
B.T. Express,
Bill Wells,
The Count Five,
Rapeman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Simply Red,
John Foxx,
Aloha Tigers,
Amazonics,
John Cale,
Whodini,
Jacob Miller,
Marmalade,
Moss Icon,
Nico,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magma,
Absolute Body Control,
The Victims,
Josef K,
Joy Division,
Mark Hollis,
China Crisis,
the Normal,
Brand Nubian,
Porter Ricks,
Lou Reed,
James White and The Blacks,
The Saints,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra,
Bad Manners,
Q and Not U,
The Young Rascals,
the Fania All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
Vainqueur,
Monks,
Television,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.