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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Real Kids to the punk 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fad Gadget,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed,
Q and Not U,
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Jeff Lynne,
The Red Krayola,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Drexciya,
Ultra Naté,
Dark Day,
New Age Steppers,
John Foxx,
Ultimate Spinach,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
Lucky Dragons,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
Toni Rubio,
Aswad,
Barrington Levy,
Steve Hackett,
The Flesh Eaters,
Das Ding,
David Axelrod,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lyres,
Minor Threat,
Television,
Inner City,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
the Slits,
FM Einheit,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Brick,
The Monochrome Set,
Surgeon,
Rotary Connection,
Ultravox,
The Dave Clark Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Human League,
Dorothy Ashby,
One Last Wish,
The Gladiators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marvin Gaye,
the Human League,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.