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 Vanuatu and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Grass Roots to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Neu!. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every kango's stein massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Rod Modell,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lucky Dragons,
Radiopuhelimet,
Erykah Badu,
The Monks,
Tres Demented,
Scion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pole,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Desert Stars,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maurizio,
The Real Kids,
Duran Duran,
Tropical Tobacco,
Royal Trux,
Funky Four + One,
Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
AZ,
Zero Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jerry's Kids,
Visage,
Brand Nubian,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Altered Images,
The Walker Brothers,
Gichy Dan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Vladislav Delay,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lalo Schifrin,
Saccharine Trust,
F. McDonald,
Ohio Players,
Gong,
The Moody Blues,
the Human League,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Invisible,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Dennis Brown,
Bob Dylan,
ABC,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.