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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 PIL to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
Simply Red,
Dave Gahan,
Cal Tjader,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Audionom,
Rakim,
Q65,
Talk Talk,
Ludus,
Smog,
Hoover,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Colin Newman,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
OOIOO,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
The Mojo Men,
Franke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mission of Burma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scrapy,
Bill Near,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boz Scaggs,
Angry Samoans,
Maleditus Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Lalann,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Steve Hackett,
Anakelly,
The Knickerbockers,
Ronan,
Avey Tare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bobby Byrd,
the Sonics,
Camouflage,
Pole,
Yellowson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gabor Szabo,
Tom Boy,
Toni Rubio,
Minor Threat,
Ultimate Spinach,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Depeche Mode,
Altered Images,
Scan 7,
Yusef Lateef,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tommy Roe,
Faraquet,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.