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 Bosnia Herzegovina 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Technova to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warren Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
The Seeds,
John Cale,
Skriet,
Suburban Knight,
Joey Negro,
Heaven 17,
Underground Resistance,
The Modern Lovers,
Talk Talk,
Niagra,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
The Sound,
Mo-Dettes,
D'Angelo,
Amazonics,
These Immortal Souls,
JFA,
John Lydon,
Joy Division,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Todd Terry,
Bill Near,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Doors,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bad Manners,
Dave Gahan,
The Happenings,
Sex Pistols,
The Litter,
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
The Divine Comedy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Franke,
Roger Hodgson,
Pere Ubu,
Harmonia,
Pet Shop Boys,
World's Most,
Spoonie Gee,
Cheater Slicks,
Gabor Szabo,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Byrd,
The Angels of Light,
Lungfish,
Blossom Toes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kurtis Blow,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Josef K,
Eurythmics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Desert Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Smooth,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.