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 Italy and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Average White Band to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron 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 Vogues,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Funky Four + One,
Accadde A,
Fat Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kas Product,
David McCallum,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zero Boys,
Niagra,
The Pretty Things,
Infiniti,
the Association,
The Trojans,
CMW,
EPMD,
Janne Schatter,
Cecil Taylor,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
The Divine Comedy,
Ohio Players,
Jeff Mills,
Ronan,
Hashim,
R.M.O.,
Beasts of Bourbon,
the Swans,
Fear,
Wings,
Moebius,
The Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Average White Band,
Simply Red,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
The Happenings,
Masters at Work,
The Flesh Eaters,
Depeche Mode,
Technova,
Lalann,
The Fuzztones,
The Leaves,
Freddie Wadling,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare,
Don Cherry,
Organ,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
The Doobie Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.