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 Netherlands and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and New York.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Desert Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
Neil Young,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
Prince Buster,
Arab on Radar,
Gichy Dan,
Soulsonic Force,
John Lydon,
Howard Jones,
Basic Channel,
One Last Wish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alphaville,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Green,
Masters at Work,
Henry Cow,
Suburban Knight,
Zero Boys,
Interpol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
Tommy Roe,
Essential Logic,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
The Victims,
Sound Behaviour,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Cell,
Al Stewart,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
X-101,
Idris Muhammad,
Infiniti,
the Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Duran Duran,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Aswad,
The Techniques,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sällskapet,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Sherman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maleditus Sound,
Massinfluence,
CMW,
Thompson Twins,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.