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 Switzerland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Derrick May to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
Sam Rivers,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Skatalites,
Surgeon,
KRS-One,
Flamin' Groovies,
Monks,
Fatback Band,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joe Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
Soulsonic Force,
X-101,
The Gories,
Danielle Patucci,
Arthur Verocai,
La Düsseldorf,
The Music Machine,
Audionom,
Dorothy Ashby,
ABC,
Monolake,
Crash Course in Science,
the Human League,
The Durutti Column,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
Brick,
Iggy Pop,
The Kinks,
The Doors,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gun Club,
the Slits,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yaz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
Rekid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Vainqueur,
Gang Starr,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Flesh Eaters,
Massinfluence,
The Sisters of Mercy,
These Immortal Souls,
Ohio Players,
Deadbeat,
Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon, Peter & Gordon.
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.