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 France and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Ultravox to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Ralphi Rosario,
Trumans Water,
Gang of Four,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mandrill,
K-Klass,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Real Kids,
David Bowie,
Funky Four + One,
The Five Americans,
Alton Ellis,
Marmalade,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Aural Exciters,
Hot Snakes,
B.T. Express,
Joe Smooth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rod Modell,
Visage,
Carl Craig,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
PIL,
James White and The Blacks,
Leonard Cohen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dead C,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
These Immortal Souls,
Grey Daturas,
The Tremeloes,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ten City,
Q and Not U,
Boredoms,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
The Birthday Party,
Hasil Adkins,
Lyres,
Shuggie Otis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mad Mike,
The Smoke,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
Fear,
The Trojans,
Anthony Braxton,
Skarface,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
Marine Girls,
Man Parrish,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.