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 South Sudan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
The Buckinghams,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Cure,
Darondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
Funky Four + One,
This Heat,
Cheater Slicks,
48th St. Collective,
The Litter,
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
Altered Images,
Subhumans,
John Lydon,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Byrd,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young,
Delta 5,
Smog,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Evens,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
D'Angelo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Babytalk,
Chrome,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mr. Review,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ,
Gang Starr,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Oblivians,
Johnny Clarke,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neu!,
Rites of Spring,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric B and Rakim,
X-101,
Trumans Water,
Man Parrish,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.