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 Dominica and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Human League 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Brick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Man Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Absolute Body Control,
the Sonics,
The Martian,
Cal Tjader,
Lower 48,
Steve Hackett,
Shuggie Otis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hot Snakes,
Index,
Blancmange,
Faraquet,
Henry Cow,
Can,
Animal Collective,
the Slits,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Soulsonic Force,
The Blues Magoos,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
E-Dancer,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Near,
Minutemen,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Gun Club,
Roy Ayers,
The Fire Engines,
Blake Baxter,
Ice-T,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
Television,
Iggy Pop,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
Ralphi Rosario,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Dead Boys,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.