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 Sri Lanka and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Donald Fagen 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 Harpers Bizarre to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
Circle Jerks,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MC5,
The Names,
The Cramps,
The Dirtbombs,
Anakelly,
Q and Not U,
Half Japanese,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rapeman,
Patti Smith,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Danielle Patucci,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Litter,
Erykah Badu,
Jawbox,
Kayak,
Absolute Body Control,
Rosa Yemen,
Bronski Beat,
Don Cherry,
Bang On A Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Jacob Miller,
Outsiders,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donny Hathaway,
Malaria!,
The Kinks,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Johnny Clarke,
New Order,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Christie,
Roger Hodgson,
Crime,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare,
Ponytail,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Slits,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Main Source,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young,
Loose Ends,
B.T. Express,
Franke,
Connie Case,
Radiopuhelimet,
OOIOO,
Liliput,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.