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 Chile and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba 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 The Mummies to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Teasers,
The Moody Blues,
Brothers Johnson,
Steve Hackett,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thee Headcoats,
The Kinks,
The Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
Bang On A Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cameo,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks,
The Count Five,
Japan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Morten Harket,
The Durutti Column,
Crime,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Funky Four + One,
Amon Düül,
The Zeros,
Maleditus Sound,
Alison Limerick,
LL Cool J,
Mr. Review,
Hasil Adkins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dark Day,
Johnny Clarke,
Marmalade,
the Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Jimmy McGriff,
Magazine,
Nik Kershaw,
Bauhaus,
Cybotron,
Con Funk Shun,
The Human League,
Yellowson,
Pantytec,
Quantec,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Monks,
Sex Pistols,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eli Mardock,
Alton Ellis,
Gichy Dan,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Axelrod,
Wally Richardson,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.