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 Spain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kerri Chandler to the disco 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Excepter,
Sandy B,
The Divine Comedy,
The Busters,
Monks,
Nirvana,
Negative Approach,
The Fire Engines,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Echospace,
Dorothy Ashby,
Organ,
Lower 48,
Agent Orange,
Jeff Mills,
Clear Light,
Audionom,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
Smog,
Sparks,
Suicide,
Eden Ahbez,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Trojans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Franke,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Man Eating Sloth,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
John Lydon,
La Düsseldorf,
ABBA,
Alice Coltrane,
James White and The Blacks,
Guru Guru,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Erykah Badu,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Accadde A,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Derrick Morgan,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Index,
Althea and Donna,
Lightning Bolt,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
The Grass Roots,
Agitation Free,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.