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 Vietnam and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Loose Ends to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Leaves,
Funkadelic,
Joe Finger,
Cameo,
The Gories,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare,
Arab on Radar,
The Misunderstood,
Heaven 17,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic,
Sparks,
Public Enemy,
Drexciya,
Khruangbin,
Rapeman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Music Machine,
PIL,
Glenn Branca,
Glambeats Corp.,
cv313,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cal Tjader,
Popol Vuh,
Black Sheep,
Yusef Lateef,
Sugar Minott,
Echospace,
Boz Scaggs,
Quantec,
Smog,
Visage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fela Kuti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jerry's Kids,
Matthew Bourne,
Byron Stingily,
Skriet,
Fear,
the Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ken Boothe,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker,
Alphaville,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Patti Smith,
Jeff Lynne,
The American Breed,
Alton Ellis,
Youth Brigade,
X-102,
Delon & Dalcan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Banda Bassotti,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.