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 Pakistan and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Main Source to the crunk 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Mr. Review,
The New Christs,
The Sonics,
Kerrie Biddell,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
Scan 7,
Gerry Rafferty,
Brand Nubian,
Grauzone,
Faraquet,
The Flesh Eaters,
Minny Pops,
ABBA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Moon,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
AZ,
Excepter,
Eurythmics,
Amazonics,
Juan Atkins,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-102,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
Nation of Ulysses,
Robert Görl,
Franke,
Ronnie Foster,
Ludus,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Swans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
The Seeds,
Altered Images,
Chris Corsano,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scratch Acid,
The Busters,
Stockholm Monsters,
James White and The Blacks,
Vainqueur,
Steve Hackett,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Niagra,
Avey Tare,
Rekid,
EPMD,
Mission of Burma,
E-Dancer,
Procol Harum,
Inner City,
Model 500,
Sam Rivers,
Eden Ahbez,
Pole,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blues Magoos,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.