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 Mauritius and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 Roger Hodgson to the crunk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
MDC,
Jeff Lynne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Modern Lovers,
Tim Buckley,
The Skatalites,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Spoonie Gee,
Soulsonic Force,
Banda Bassotti,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suicide,
Pagans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Minnie Riperton,
The Neon Judgement,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Radio Birdman,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Depeche Mode,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pulsallama,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
Big Daddy Kane,
Absolute Body Control,
Swans,
The Leaves,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
Eli Mardock,
John Coltrane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Happenings,
Eden Ahbez,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Josef K,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rakim,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Minor Threat,
The Knickerbockers,
Aloha Tigers,
Unrelated Segments,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.