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 Bahamas and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Dice to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Neil Young,
Funkadelic,
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sugar Minott,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Neon Judgement,
Flamin' Groovies,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Index,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Lynne,
Nico,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hashim,
Skriet,
Schoolly D,
One Last Wish,
Thompson Twins,
Liliput,
Main Source,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Severed Heads,
Yazoo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radiohead,
Lalo Schifrin,
Television Personalities,
The Litter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David McCallum,
Q and Not U,
Johnny Clarke,
Mad Mike,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Ituana,
ABC,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
Q65,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultimate Spinach,
Easy Going,
Zero Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
China Crisis,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Foxx,
The Remains,
Traffic Nightmare,
Piero Umiliani,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.