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 Montenegro and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap to the techno 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Qualms,
the Sonics,
Crispy Ambulance,
Goldenarms,
Blake Baxter,
Quantec,
Thompson Twins,
Nas,
48th St. Collective,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minor Threat,
The Shadows of Knight,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Byron Stingily,
Niagra,
The Leaves,
Be Bop Deluxe,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA,
The Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
The Litter,
Marmalade,
Aswad,
The Busters,
The Moody Blues,
Ituana,
Inner City,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Sex Pistols,
the Association,
The Blues Magoos,
Swell Maps,
Nik Kershaw,
Fatback Band,
The Cure,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Freddie Wadling,
The Cowsills,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
The Skatalites,
Black Flag,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Max Romeo,
The Offenders,
Boredoms,
The Red Krayola,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mad Mike,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
Stiv Bators,
The Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.