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 Laos and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rosa Yemen to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lyres,
Marc Almond,
H. Thieme,
Dave Gahan,
The Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Derrick May,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dorothy Ashby,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Albert Ayler,
Stetsasonic,
Marvin Gaye,
Matthew Bourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Adolescents,
Agent Orange,
Sex Pistols,
Brand Nubian,
R.M.O.,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Pretty Things,
Deepchord,
Amon Düül,
10cc,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Fugazi,
Terry Callier,
Inner City,
Grauzone,
Man Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Mary Jane Girls,
Roy Ayers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Blackbyrds,
Panda Bear,
Zero Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Durutti Column,
Khruangbin,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Connie Case,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare,
Robert Hood,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.