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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Dead Boys to the rock 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Tremeloes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Can,
Hardrive,
Boredoms,
Freddie Wadling,
Flipper,
Rites of Spring,
Connie Case,
Electric Prunes,
Quando Quango,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
David Axelrod,
The Vogues,
Grauzone,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cybotron,
Ituana,
David Bowie,
Little Man,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hoover,
Dawn Penn,
Fatback Band,
Underground Resistance,
The Litter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fat Boys,
Lower 48,
The Happenings,
Icehouse,
Accadde A,
Funkadelic,
Black Sheep,
Zero Boys,
Prince Buster,
Judy Mowatt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
L. Decosne,
Stiv Bators,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Grass Roots,
Toni Rubio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mantronix,
Crispian St. Peters,
Main Source,
Janne Schatter,
The Neon Judgement,
Bob Dylan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mo-Dettes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Agent Orange,
Interpol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Standells,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.