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 Andorra and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Toni Rubio to the rock 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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roxette record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
La Düsseldorf,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Surgeon,
Tim Buckley,
Oblivians,
Eurythmics,
The Beau Brummels,
Motorama,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ten City,
Robert Görl,
Brothers Johnson,
Accadde A,
Moebius,
Agitation Free,
Brass Construction,
Man Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
The Invisible,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hoover,
Slick Rick,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Starr,
Yellowson,
The New Christs,
Newcleus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Nils Olav,
Jesper Dahlback,
Peter and Kerry,
Steve Hackett,
Unwound,
Swell Maps,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drive Like Jehu,
E-Dancer,
Sun Ra,
The Pop Group,
Gastr Del Sol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gang Green,
B.T. Express,
The Grass Roots,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Iggy Pop,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T,
In Retrospect,
The Barracudas,
Babytalk,
Ituana,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fugs,
Yaz,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.