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 Honduras and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 linndrum 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 The Angels of Light to the rap 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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Ossler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick Morgan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-102,
Mars,
OOIOO,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
Toni Rubio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Moss Icon,
The Victims,
The Evens,
Rapeman,
Metal Thangz,
Kayak,
the Fania All-Stars,
Babytalk,
Alton Ellis,
The Saints,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
T.S.O.L.,
Ponytail,
Rekid,
Letta Mbulu,
Andrew Hill,
Monks,
The American Breed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Icehouse,
PIL,
Grey Daturas,
Jacob Miller,
Section 25,
Yaz,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bobby Byrd,
Scratch Acid,
Bad Manners,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Robert Görl,
Dead Boys,
The Associates,
The Kinks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Urselle,
Massinfluence,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Near,
The Gap Band,
Blake Baxter,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.