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 Colombia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron 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 Theoretical Girls to the rock 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-Ray Spex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scientists,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Audionom,
The Moody Blues,
Mad Mike,
Supertramp,
Clear Light,
Bluetip,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Move,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Infiniti,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
Jacob Miller,
Black Pus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Isaac Hayes,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
In Retrospect,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
Neil Young,
The Durutti Column,
OOIOO,
The Techniques,
Soul II Soul,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Tremeloes,
Arab on Radar,
Hardrive,
Maleditus Sound,
Alton Ellis,
The Divine Comedy,
The Saints,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ludus,
Wings,
Alison Limerick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ice-T,
Underground Resistance,
The Litter,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Henry Cow,
The Angels of Light,
Funky Four + One,
ABBA,
Leonard Cohen,
Wire,
Fluxion,
The Birthday Party,
Lou Reed,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.