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 Tonga and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Normal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drive Like Jehu,
Livin' Joy,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
The Human League,
Simply Red,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dennis Brown,
Slick Rick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Red Krayola,
ABBA,
Harmonia,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lungfish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Quando Quango,
Stereo Dub,
The Fuzztones,
Soul Sonic Force,
Make Up,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Prunes,
The Names,
The American Breed,
The Skatalites,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Altered Images,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roger Hodgson,
Organ,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yellowson,
The Knickerbockers,
John Lydon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
The Black Dice,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythm & Sound,
Peter & Gordon,
Dead Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scientists,
Sun City Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Henry Cow,
Excepter,
Ice-T,
Cymande,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.