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 Bulgaria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Stockholm Monsters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
The Music Machine,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Green,
Ohio Players,
Qualms,
Donny Hathaway,
Icehouse,
Suicide,
Blancmange,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
Simply Red,
The Gun Club,
These Immortal Souls,
Tears for Fears,
Crooked Eye,
Radiopuhelimet,
Subhumans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Theoretical Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Derrick Morgan,
The Neon Judgement,
Laurel Aitken,
Alphaville,
Fela Kuti,
Letta Mbulu,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Scientists,
Wolf Eyes,
Nico,
Derrick May,
Patti Smith,
Don Cherry,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Prunes,
Lightning Bolt,
The United States of America,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Sun City Girls,
The Techniques,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Reagan Youth,
Y Pants,
Warsaw,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
Sandy B,
Slave,
Marmalade,
Masters at Work,
Slick Rick,
Bobby Sherman,
This Heat,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.