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 Italy and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Sexual Harrassment to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Spoonie Gee,
John Foxx,
Parry Music,
Howard Jones,
Gang Green,
Heaven 17,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
DJ Sneak,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Pus,
Simply Red,
The Star Department,
Max Romeo,
Mars,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Barracudas,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Womack,
Monolake,
Popol Vuh,
The Fall,
Wolf Eyes,
Flash Fearless,
Accadde A,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Bluetip,
Lee Hazlewood,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Brick,
The Raincoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
MC5,
The Sonics,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joey Negro,
Section 25,
Connie Case,
The Beau Brummels,
The Buckinghams,
Lalann,
The Residents,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Deadbeat,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gun Club,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fire Engines,
DJ Style,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.