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 Lithuania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Sex Pistols to the rap 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 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 rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex,
Mad Mike,
Television Personalities,
Crash Course in Science,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
Silicon Teens,
Royal Trux,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wasted Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
EPMD,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Thompson Twins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
Cal Tjader,
The Moleskins,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
Los Fastidios,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marine Girls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Faraquet,
ABC,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxette,
Qualms,
Ossler,
Sight & Sound,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
Michelle Simonal,
Liliput,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
Al Stewart,
Ken Boothe,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
Sister Nancy,
Moby Grape,
Lalo Schifrin,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.