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 Egypt and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Donald Byrd to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Outsiders,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pussy Galore,
Quando Quango,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Busters,
H. Thieme,
The Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Los Fastidios,
The Motions,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Raincoats,
a-ha,
Sixth Finger,
D'Angelo,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
The American Breed,
Y Pants,
Silicon Teens,
Make Up,
Chris & Cosey,
Fugazi,
Grey Daturas,
Scott Walker,
Max Romeo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
Alison Limerick,
B.T. Express,
Toni Rubio,
Nick Fraelich,
X-101,
Peter and Kerry,
Visage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Q and Not U,
The Offenders,
Maurizio,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
The Blues Magoos,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ultra Naté,
Bobby Byrd,
Dave Gahan,
Crash Course in Science,
Circle Jerks,
Connie Case,
Scrapy,
The Smoke,
Roger Hodgson,
LL Cool J,
Lou Christie,
The Gun Club,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.