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 Indonesia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Grauzone to the dance 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
These Immortal Souls,
Duran Duran,
Adolescents,
Graham Central Station,
Stereo Dub,
U.S. Maple,
X-102,
Brothers Johnson,
The Knickerbockers,
Cymande,
Junior Murvin,
F. McDonald,
the Swans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spandau Ballet,
Connie Case,
Lou Christie,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
Alison Limerick,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Boredoms,
Half Japanese,
Jacob Miller,
The Golliwogs,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Offenders,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
Henry Cow,
Ohio Players,
The Count Five,
Idris Muhammad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Rapeman,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sandy B,
The Slits,
Bronski Beat,
Man Eating Sloth,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Motions,
Lucky Dragons,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ken Boothe,
Maurizio,
The Trojans,
Khruangbin,
the Sonics,
Amazonics,
Radio Birdman,
Circle Jerks,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.