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 Netherlands and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Michelle Simonal to the punk 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Black Bananas,
Derrick Morgan,
Depeche Mode,
X-101,
Rekid,
The Modern Lovers,
The Offenders,
Maurizio,
Silicon Teens,
Marmalade,
June Days,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vladislav Delay,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
The Remains,
Talk Talk,
The Busters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Von Mondo,
Donald Byrd,
Joy Division,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Trumans Water,
Smog,
Aaron Thompson,
The Five Americans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
Radio Birdman,
Excepter,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Style,
Marine Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scan 7,
Franke,
Mantronix,
The Standells,
Can,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
James White and The Blacks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Danielle Patucci,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.