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 Oman and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Faraquet,
Marc Almond,
Mad Mike,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
These Immortal Souls,
The Cramps,
The Evens,
FM Einheit,
Quando Quango,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Depeche Mode,
Clear Light,
Kayak,
Pylon,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Suburban Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Grauzone,
Harpers Bizarre,
Panda Bear,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The American Breed,
John Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Roxy Music,
The Last Poets,
Au Pairs,
Joyce Sims,
John Holt,
Second Layer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bauhaus,
The Pretty Things,
Neu!,
Babytalk,
The Misunderstood,
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
Jandek,
Lower 48,
Niagra,
The Five Americans,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
Minutemen,
Hashim,
Amon Düül,
The United States of America,
Howard Jones,
Subhumans,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.