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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mars to the crunk 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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sun Ra,
The Offenders,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bad Manners,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Searchers,
Tommy Roe,
Moss Icon,
Eddi Front,
Bauhaus,
The Modern Lovers,
Althea and Donna,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Joy Division,
Rosa Yemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
David McCallum,
The Angels of Light,
Pantaleimon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Velvet Underground,
Easy Going,
Wasted Youth,
Man Parrish,
Procol Harum,
Maurizio,
Theoretical Girls,
The Real Kids,
Skriet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
Fatback Band,
Supertramp,
Matthew Bourne,
The Names,
Make Up,
Roger Hodgson,
Von Mondo,
Fat Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
R.M.O.,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Human League,
Interpol,
The Associates,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Scion,
Pere Ubu,
The Evens,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Yusef Lateef,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Pop Group,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.