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 Palau and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Angels of Light 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
The Offenders,
Sight & Sound,
Eli Mardock,
The Cowsills,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Litter,
Au Pairs,
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mandrill,
Hashim,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Porter Ricks,
OOIOO,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Henry Cow,
Half Japanese,
Nick Fraelich,
Chrome,
Warsaw,
X-102,
The Smoke,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The New Christs,
John Foxx,
The Gap Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Amazonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Derrick Morgan,
Eric Dolphy,
The Martian,
R.M.O.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rod Modell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Niagra,
Sam Rivers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Buckinghams,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
F. McDonald,
Public Enemy,
Scion,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.