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 Tuvalu and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Lebanon Hanover to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Skriet,
Josef K,
Easy Going,
Isaac Hayes,
B.T. Express,
Minutemen,
Echospace,
Mandrill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scientists,
Smog,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Malaria!,
The Barracudas,
Franke,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Music Machine,
John Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Stiv Bators,
The Stooges,
Monks,
U.S. Maple,
Electric Prunes,
Joyce Sims,
Motorama,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
Erykah Badu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radio Birdman,
Neu!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Vogues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camouflage,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Peter and Kerry,
Donny Hathaway,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Shadows of Knight,
Robert Hood,
The Count Five,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Toni Rubio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Underground Resistance,
Grandmaster Flash,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerri Chandler,
The Names,
Visage,
The Invisible,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Misunderstood,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.