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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Sällskapet,
Freddie Wadling,
Desert Stars,
Bill Wells,
Kerri Chandler,
Sister Nancy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Arcadia,
Saccharine Trust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
Public Image Ltd.,
Donald Byrd,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monks,
10cc,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Christie,
The Dead C,
the Association,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Ludus,
Urselle,
Pet Shop Boys,
Robert Wyatt,
The Victims,
Carl Craig,
Stiv Bators,
Rhythm & Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Vainqueur,
MDC,
Newcleus,
The Invisible,
The Index,
The Grass Roots,
Niagra,
Technova,
The Gories,
Deadbeat,
Kenny Larkin,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
The Star Department,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kayak,
Sun City Girls,
Funky Four + One,
Delta 5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Byron Stingily,
Barry Ungar,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.