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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bobby Sherman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Eve St. Jones,
The Names,
The Knickerbockers,
Althea and Donna,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
The Litter,
In Retrospect,
Ituana,
Sparks,
Scion,
H. Thieme,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Stetsasonic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
These Immortal Souls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Görl,
Popol Vuh,
Ohio Players,
Unrelated Segments,
The Angels of Light,
Metal Thangz,
The Count Five,
Nico,
Royal Trux,
The Sound,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Sherman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harry Pussy,
The New Christs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Carl Craig,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boogie Down Productions,
KRS-One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donald Byrd,
Black Moon,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
Iggy Pop,
Lakeside,
Lower 48,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
The Modern Lovers,
Circle Jerks,
Sun City Girls,
Fugazi,
Mission of Burma,
La Düsseldorf,
Tom Boy,
Sam Rivers,
Piero Umiliani,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Sneak,
Masters at Work,
Fluxion,
The Moleskins,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.