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 Zambia and from Philadelphia.
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 Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Hoover to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
Gang Starr,
Index,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
China Crisis,
Sam Rivers,
Joyce Sims,
Desert Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Duran Duran,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Al Stewart,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Severed Heads,
Jawbox,
Sex Pistols,
The Sonics,
Reagan Youth,
Bang On A Can,
Roger Hodgson,
Grauzone,
The Red Krayola,
Intrusion,
Robert Wyatt,
The Offenders,
The Mummies,
Todd Rundgren,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skriet,
Liliput,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy Collins,
Steve Hackett,
Gong,
Vainqueur,
The Golliwogs,
Hot Snakes,
Mars,
Arcadia,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants,
Yusef Lateef,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
The Blackbyrds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.