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 Nepal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Copeland to the techno 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tomorrow 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Amazonics,
Tubeway Army,
Qualms,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Barracudas,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Warren Ellis,
Slick Rick,
David Bowie,
Soulsonic Force,
Index,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Liliput,
Jeff Lynne,
Juan Atkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yaz,
Fela Kuti,
Roxy Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
F. McDonald,
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Harmonia,
Depeche Mode,
Peter & Gordon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Moon,
Pantaleimon,
the Germs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Litter,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dark Day,
Jacques Brel,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wolf Eyes,
John Holt,
Pole,
The Vogues,
Funkadelic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Panda Bear,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lower 48,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Electric Prunes,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.