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 Malta and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moss Icon to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Hot Snakes,
The Blues Magoos,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Mad Mike,
Suicide,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camouflage,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Archie Shepp,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harmonia,
Theoretical Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
New Age Steppers,
Gang of Four,
Aural Exciters,
The Busters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sight & Sound,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Halsall,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sandy B,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Gap Band,
Interpol,
Roy Ayers,
Sonic Youth,
Scion,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
Avey Tare,
Dawn Penn,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
The Five Americans,
Junior Murvin,
Jacob Miller,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fortunes,
Cameo,
Main Source,
Neu!,
Young Marble Giants,
Erykah Badu,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.