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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ronnie Foster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ludus,
Sixth Finger,
World's Most,
Jacques Brel,
Cluster,
The Walker Brothers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rites of Spring,
Dave Gahan,
Moebius,
Morten Harket,
Fela Kuti,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mission of Burma,
X-101,
a-ha,
Sexual Harrassment,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Pretty Things,
Gerry Rafferty,
The American Breed,
Simply Red,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
kango's stein massive,
Oblivians,
Aural Exciters,
The Cowsills,
James White and The Blacks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
JFA,
John Foxx,
The Cramps,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Fugs,
Eric Copeland,
Pole,
Spoonie Gee,
Flipper,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Howard Jones,
The Busters,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dead Boys,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.