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 Marshall Islands and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Columbus and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Rekid to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Talk Talk,
Wolf Eyes,
Wings,
Judy Mowatt,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
John Holt,
Underground Resistance,
Index,
Fear,
The Durutti Column,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dead Boys,
Nico,
Jerry's Kids,
Livin' Joy,
The Wake,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Pole,
DNA,
Icehouse,
Shoche,
Neu!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Raincoats,
Al Stewart,
Fatback Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispy Ambulance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
The Music Machine,
Quadrant,
Stiv Bators,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grey Daturas,
Average White Band,
The Monks,
Absolute Body Control,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Junior Murvin,
The Blackbyrds,
Sonic Youth,
Janne Schatter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter and Kerry,
the Germs,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Skatalites,
Altered Images,
Tears for Fears,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thompson Twins,
Crash Course in Science,
Thee Headcoats,
Jacob Miller,
Susan Cadogan,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.