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 Namibia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Brand Nubian to the funk 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Althea and Donna,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David McCallum,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
Magma,
Bluetip,
Marc Almond,
Icehouse,
Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Moody Blues,
Bronski Beat,
Soft Cell,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rekid,
Massinfluence,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
kango's stein massive,
The Techniques,
Gang Green,
Yusef Lateef,
Carl Craig,
Eve St. Jones,
Whodini,
JFA,
Pussy Galore,
Pole,
Quantec,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Jacques Brel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wolf Eyes,
The Angels of Light,
Bauhaus,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
Livin' Joy,
the Association,
Iggy Pop,
Rod Modell,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
Connie Case,
Technova,
Harmonia,
The Cramps,
Maurizio,
Marvin Gaye,
Ludus,
Buzzcocks,
Lindisfarne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Motorama,
Cameo,
FM Einheit,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.