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 Kosovo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rites of Spring,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Make Up,
Bobby Sherman,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
Eden Ahbez,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Oneida,
Warsaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Au Pairs,
Robert Hood,
The Smoke,
The Gladiators,
The Angels of Light,
Crime,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visage,
The Red Krayola,
Reuben Wilson,
A Certain Ratio,
Skriet,
Sun City Girls,
Schoolly D,
Whodini,
ABC,
Tommy Roe,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Saints,
Joensuu 1685,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Darondo,
Max Romeo,
Aloha Tigers,
L. Decosne,
Moss Icon,
The Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
DNA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sexual Harrassment,
Icehouse,
Reagan Youth,
PIL,
The Moody Blues,
The Names,
Rekid,
Boredoms,
Tres Demented,
The Tremeloes,
CMW,
Grauzone,
Nico,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.