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 Netherlands and from Bologna.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Dave Clark Five to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
The Smiths,
Steve Hackett,
Eden Ahbez,
Marcia Griffiths,
Spandau Ballet,
Henry Cow,
10cc,
The Offenders,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crash Course in Science,
The Selecter,
Charles Mingus,
Saccharine Trust,
The Alarm Clocks,
DNA,
The Raincoats,
Roxy Music,
the Sonics,
Make Up,
Don Cherry,
Absolute Body Control,
The Saints,
Yaz,
kango's stein massive,
Television Personalities,
The Misunderstood,
Surgeon,
Tears for Fears,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lou Reed,
Pierre Henry,
Pantaleimon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Susan Cadogan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marvin Gaye,
The J.B.'s,
Johnny Clarke,
Organ,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fela Kuti,
Moss Icon,
Junior Murvin,
The Walker Brothers,
the Bar-Kays,
The Victims,
Soft Cell,
Panda Bear,
Y Pants,
the Swans,
Soulsonic Force,
The Leaves,
K-Klass,
Qualms,
Kool Moe Dee,
B.T. Express,
The Golliwogs,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.