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 Belarus and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 R.M.O. to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Star Department,
Talk Talk,
Darondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cowsills,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
Royal Trux,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rod Modell,
The Smiths,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Quando Quango,
New York Dolls,
Qualms,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Icehouse,
Khruangbin,
Sight & Sound,
Joe Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Sherman,
Scion,
Eurythmics,
The Moleskins,
The Monks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Excepter,
Terry Callier,
The Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Desert Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
Michelle Simonal,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fluxion,
Eve St. Jones,
Scan 7,
Magazine,
Dark Day,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
Ituana,
Scott Walker,
Vladislav Delay,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
The Walker Brothers,
Symarip,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
cv313,
Henry Cow,
Lebanon Hanover,
Goldenarms,
Nas,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.