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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Michael McDonald 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 Duran Duran to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Lyres 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 grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Byrd,
Panda Bear,
Organ,
Mars,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Little Man,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Godley & Creme,
Delon & Dalcan,
Deakin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Niagra,
Tubeway Army,
Goldenarms,
Trumans Water,
Cymande,
Peter & Gordon,
The Last Poets,
Boredoms,
Wasted Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronnie Foster,
The Human League,
Excepter,
John Lydon,
Albert Ayler,
John Foxx,
DJ Sneak,
Anakelly,
Fear,
Slick Rick,
Banda Bassotti,
Technova,
Roger Hodgson,
Icehouse,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Knickerbockers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Teasers,
Deadbeat,
The New Christs,
The Slits,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
The American Breed,
The Kinks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hardrive,
Spandau Ballet,
Negative Approach,
Qualms,
T. Rex,
48th St. Collective,
A Certain Ratio,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Kerrie Biddell,
Aural Exciters,
Q and Not U,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.