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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 FM Einheit to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Kayak,
Procol Harum,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ken Boothe,
The Cowsills,
the Sonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vainqueur,
Harry Pussy,
Faraquet,
The Toasters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cheater Slicks,
10cc,
Dark Day,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Doors,
Judy Mowatt,
Lungfish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Hardrive,
Soft Cell,
The Gap Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Severed Heads,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacob Miller,
Thompson Twins,
The Pop Group,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Terry Callier,
Yazoo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Moss Icon,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Suicide,
The Raincoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
Hoover,
The J.B.'s,
Nas,
Model 500,
Agitation Free,
Massinfluence,
Thee Headcoats,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fluxion,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.