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 Tajikistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Grey Daturas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Davy DMX,
Stiv Bators,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
K-Klass,
John Lydon,
Absolute Body Control,
Marc Almond,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Junior Murvin,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Osbourne,
David McCallum,
Organ,
Malaria!,
Michelle Simonal,
Joensuu 1685,
the Germs,
Chris & Cosey,
Blake Baxter,
Japan,
Silicon Teens,
The Mummies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Depeche Mode,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shoche,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Womack,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New York Dolls,
The Gladiators,
Harmonia,
Robert Hood,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Severed Heads,
Blossom Toes,
Rites of Spring,
Donny Hathaway,
China Crisis,
Albert Ayler,
The Index,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Barracudas,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Joey Negro,
Sister Nancy,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang of Four,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.