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 Pakistan and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rock 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Howard Jones,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
Reuben Wilson,
Chrome,
Rosa Yemen,
The Tremeloes,
Moss Icon,
Nils Olav,
Malaria!,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
Ludus,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sarah Menescal,
Sam Rivers,
Tears for Fears,
Lee Hazlewood,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gichy Dan,
Nas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Roxy Music,
Lindisfarne,
Amon Düül,
Electric Prunes,
a-ha,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Eddi Front,
X-102,
Buzzcocks,
Blossom Toes,
Rufus Thomas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bill Near,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hoover,
Au Pairs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Boz Scaggs,
Duran Duran,
Pulsallama,
The American Breed,
the Normal,
EPMD,
Steve Hackett,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.