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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Zeros record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pierre Henry,
Reagan Youth,
Prince Buster,
Ludus,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Eve St. Jones,
Buzzcocks,
Howard Jones,
the Swans,
the Slits,
Eli Mardock,
Section 25,
The Motions,
These Immortal Souls,
Dave Gahan,
The American Breed,
Quadrant,
Faust,
Sixth Finger,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Little Man,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
The Skatalites,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
Warren Ellis,
Godley & Creme,
The Blues Magoos,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tomorrow,
Outsiders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-101,
Make Up,
Junior Murvin,
The Martian,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Eddi Front,
kango's stein massive,
Franke,
Swell Maps,
The Music Machine,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Stiv Bators,
Arthur Verocai,
Moss Icon,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul II Soul,
Circle Jerks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.