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 Algeria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Moby Grape to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
kango's stein massive,
Sister Nancy,
Ultra Naté,
Godley & Creme,
Joyce Sims,
T.S.O.L.,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
Lou Christie,
The Velvet Underground,
Quando Quango,
Tommy Roe,
the Human League,
Scientists,
Gong,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arab on Radar,
Kayak,
Eve St. Jones,
Hasil Adkins,
Urselle,
Negative Approach,
The Five Americans,
Bang On A Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Maleditus Sound,
The Pop Group,
In Retrospect,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Blancmange,
The Techniques,
EPMD,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
The Invisible,
Severed Heads,
Liliput,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
The Smoke,
Mo-Dettes,
The Real Kids,
CMW,
Rakim,
Quantec,
Aloha Tigers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Todd Terry,
Inner City,
Jeru the Damaja,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neu!,
Bobby Womack,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Au Pairs,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.