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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Cheater Slicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ossler,
The Angels of Light,
AZ,
DJ Sneak,
Stockholm Monsters,
Blake Baxter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
Essential Logic,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Young Marble Giants,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
In Retrospect,
Jacques Brel,
Thompson Twins,
Kayak,
Arthur Verocai,
New Order,
The Modern Lovers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Altered Images,
Reagan Youth,
Fad Gadget,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Red Krayola,
Second Layer,
Con Funk Shun,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Sherman,
Gong,
The Doors,
Howard Jones,
Ronan,
Underground Resistance,
The Selecter,
Wally Richardson,
Dual Sessions,
Danielle Patucci,
Nico,
David Bowie,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Searchers,
Visage,
Ten City,
Isaac Hayes,
the Normal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
James White and The Blacks,
Gichy Dan,
Roxy Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tommy Roe,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.