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 Panama and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Sister Nancy 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Mission of Burma,
The Kinks,
Black Pus,
James White and The Blacks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ice-T,
Anthony Braxton,
Aswad,
Minny Pops,
Neu!,
The Leaves,
Erasure,
The Five Americans,
the Bar-Kays,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
The Trojans,
Johnny Clarke,
Japan,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boredoms,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bronski Beat,
The Moody Blues,
Sixth Finger,
Circle Jerks,
The Techniques,
Brothers Johnson,
Technova,
Zapp,
Kerrie Biddell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pretty Things,
Wally Richardson,
Sister Nancy,
Fatback Band,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Procol Harum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
A Certain Ratio,
The Smiths,
Darondo,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Cameo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Morten Harket,
This Heat,
The Dead C,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.