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 Solomon Islands and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 spring reverb 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 Ultimate Spinach to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Electric Prunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Metal Thangz,
Fela Kuti,
Max Romeo,
David Axelrod,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
Carl Craig,
Simply Red,
Delon & Dalcan,
PIL,
X-102,
Eric Dolphy,
Chris Corsano,
Cabaret Voltaire,
ABBA,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gladiators,
Arab on Radar,
Sparks,
Sixth Finger,
Average White Band,
Country Teasers,
Black Bananas,
Flamin' Groovies,
Charles Mingus,
Mandrill,
Clear Light,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mission of Burma,
Chrome,
Pet Shop Boys,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül II,
Toni Rubio,
Ponytail,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
John Cale,
T.S.O.L.,
World's Most,
Suicide,
Ultravox,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
The Stooges,
The Mummies,
Underground Resistance,
Aaron Thompson,
Steve Hackett,
Cheater Slicks,
Eurythmics,
Sarah Menescal,
Talk Talk,
David McCallum,
Desert Stars,
Lindisfarne,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.