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 Zimbabwe and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Delhi.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Easy Going to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Buckinghams,
John Holt,
Tears for Fears,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Organ,
Arthur Verocai,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fugazi,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Durutti Column,
Silicon Teens,
Thompson Twins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Pus,
Mandrill,
The Cramps,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fort Wilson Riot,
La Düsseldorf,
Arcadia,
Technova,
Rapeman,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cal Tjader,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Lakeside,
Section 25,
Steve Hackett,
Blancmange,
Piero Umiliani,
OOIOO,
Eve St. Jones,
the Germs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Severed Heads,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Doors,
The Gap Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans,
Nik Kershaw,
Average White Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Davy DMX,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.