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 Turkey and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb 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 Spandau Ballet to the techno 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
The Golliwogs,
F. McDonald,
Sight & Sound,
Motorama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Skaos,
Newcleus,
Pharoah Sanders,
Index,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Television Personalities,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
The Standells,
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeff Lynne,
Nick Fraelich,
Echospace,
Pantytec,
The Gun Club,
Yellowson,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy Collins,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
These Immortal Souls,
The Vogues,
Harmonia,
DNA,
Scott Walker,
The Electric Prunes,
DJ Sneak,
Graham Central Station,
Ken Boothe,
Sparks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Amon Düül,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric B and Rakim,
Spandau Ballet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kayak,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crooked Eye,
Minny Pops,
Symarip,
Leonard Cohen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Index,
L. Decosne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.