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 Dominican Republic and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Echo & the Bunnymen 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liliput,
Eurythmics,
Mark Hollis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fugazi,
John Foxx,
A Certain Ratio,
Barbara Tucker,
Section 25,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
The Angels of Light,
The Selecter,
Bill Near,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dead C,
Eve St. Jones,
Yazoo,
Alphaville,
Nico,
Fela Kuti,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultra Naté,
Joe Smooth,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David McCallum,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
Little Man,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Kas Product,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pussy Galore,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Fear,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gories,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
Roger Hodgson,
Visage,
Prince Buster,
Sound Behaviour,
Royal Trux,
Slick Rick,
Wasted Youth,
Monolake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harry Pussy,
The Doors,
Magazine,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.