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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Howard Jones to the funk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Girls At Our Best! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
Visage,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nik Kershaw,
The Count Five,
Joe Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Danielle Patucci,
Jerry's Kids,
Bill Wells,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Sixth Finger,
Sällskapet,
Heaven 17,
Throbbing Gristle,
Mission of Burma,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Bar-Kays,
The United States of America,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Litter,
Negative Approach,
X-101,
The Five Americans,
Boredoms,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sandy B,
Robert Wyatt,
D'Angelo,
Khruangbin,
The Cramps,
Groovy Waters,
Suicide,
Tommy Roe,
Fluxion,
Lou Christie,
The Monks,
The Grass Roots,
Scott Walker,
Yusef Lateef,
Stiv Bators,
The Moody Blues,
Marmalade,
Q and Not U,
Quadrant,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Talk Talk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Audionom,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
The Happenings,
Isaac Hayes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Darondo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nas,
ABBA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.