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 Honduras and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Unrelated Segments to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Aloha Tigers,
Vainqueur,
The Litter,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Womack,
Peter & Gordon,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
Swans,
Section 25,
Letta Mbulu,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Swell Maps,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mummies,
The Trojans,
Yazoo,
The Slackers,
Trumans Water,
Roger Hodgson,
Kayak,
Au Pairs,
Dead Boys,
Faraquet,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
The Evens,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
The Stooges,
Icehouse,
June of 44,
Prince Buster,
Desert Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Pierre Henry,
Pere Ubu,
The Mojo Men,
Thompson Twins,
Banda Bassotti,
The Residents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Second Layer,
Brick,
The Angels of Light,
John Foxx,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
Alison Limerick,
Nico,
Depeche Mode,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Rapeman,
Minor Threat,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.