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 Panama and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Niagra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Roxette,
R.M.O.,
The Pretty Things,
Thompson Twins,
The Searchers,
B.T. Express,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monolake,
The Star Department,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
the Soft Cell,
Mo-Dettes,
Dawn Penn,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Blues Magoos,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Moleskins,
Spoonie Gee,
Sex Pistols,
Rapeman,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barrington Levy,
The Gories,
Qualms,
Theoretical Girls,
Mars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sound,
Wings,
Scratch Acid,
Tears for Fears,
Warren Ellis,
Minor Threat,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zero Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fuzztones,
Bang On A Can,
Oblivians,
Bootsy Collins,
L. Decosne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Flipper,
Harmonia,
The Young Rascals,
Buzzcocks,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scott Walker,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soft Cell,
Young Marble Giants,
The Black Dice,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.