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 Singapore and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Sandy B to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
James White and The Blacks,
The Neon Judgement,
Albert Ayler,
Sun Ra,
Fear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
David Axelrod,
Echospace,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monochrome Set,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tubeway Army,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Reagan Youth,
June of 44,
The Tremeloes,
Terry Callier,
Black Sheep,
H. Thieme,
Warsaw,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Wake,
Excepter,
Vainqueur,
Rod Modell,
Thompson Twins,
The Gap Band,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
The Stooges,
Easy Going,
Average White Band,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blake Baxter,
Lee Hazlewood,
Massinfluence,
Eurythmics,
ABC,
The Blackbyrds,
Barrington Levy,
Soulsonic Force,
Rekid,
Qualms,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
New Order,
Kenny Larkin,
The Skatalites,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.