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 Samoa and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Quadrant to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fuzztones,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Hood,
Roxy Music,
JFA,
ABC,
Goldenarms,
Basic Channel,
E-Dancer,
Suburban Knight,
Magma,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Guru Guru,
Bizarre Inc.,
Kerrie Biddell,
Malaria!,
Eric Dolphy,
The Beau Brummels,
Niagra,
Siglo XX,
The Grass Roots,
Ultra Naté,
Pere Ubu,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moleskins,
Gang Green,
Donald Byrd,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
T. Rex,
The Cramps,
John Coltrane,
Juan Atkins,
Black Moon,
The Trojans,
the Soft Cell,
New Order,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Bauhaus,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Judy Mowatt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
Bush Tetras,
The Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Marshall Jefferson,
R.M.O.,
Tropical Tobacco,
Alphaville,
Sandy B,
Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs, Boz Scaggs.
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.