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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 June of 44 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Second Layer,
Underground Resistance,
Faust,
The Grass Roots,
The Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Stooges,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Depeche Mode,
The Kinks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
The Beau Brummels,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lungfish,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Sheep,
Niagra,
Stiv Bators,
Blake Baxter,
The Birthday Party,
Au Pairs,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
Visage,
Roxy Music,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sound Behaviour,
Donny Hathaway,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Black Dice,
Negative Approach,
Alphaville,
Gichy Dan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bob Dylan,
Don Cherry,
The Associates,
Wings,
The Evens,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
Arcadia,
X-Ray Spex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Porter Ricks,
Cheater Slicks,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.