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 Samoa and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Young Rascals to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Niagra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
Fugazi,
L. Decosne,
The Buckinghams,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Residents,
Simply Red,
Donny Hathaway,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter & Gordon,
DNA,
Hardrive,
Pierre Henry,
Marc Almond,
Angry Samoans,
Wasted Youth,
Rod Modell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
The Fortunes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
This Heat,
Wolf Eyes,
Drexciya,
Magazine,
June Days,
Joe Smooth,
Susan Cadogan,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Swans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Oblivians,
Flash Fearless,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-101,
Dave Gahan,
Al Stewart,
Bad Manners,
Con Funk Shun,
Radio Birdman,
Thompson Twins,
The Motions,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
A Certain Ratio,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.