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 Haiti and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed,
Joey Negro,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
Scrapy,
Althea and Donna,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Todd Rundgren,
Slick Rick,
Mr. Review,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heaven 17,
Pantaleimon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Procol Harum,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flipper,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
In Retrospect,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fear,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skarface,
Radio Birdman,
Yellowson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liliput,
Soulsonic Force,
June of 44,
ABC,
10cc,
the Association,
Roy Ayers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brick,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
The Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Television,
the Sonics,
Susan Cadogan,
Howard Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brass Construction,
The Five Americans,
Arcadia,
Barclay James Harvest,
Boredoms,
Fluxion,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.