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 Libya and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 The Grass Roots to the disco 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Scan 7,
Shoche,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
In Retrospect,
Royal Trux,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Spandau Ballet,
the Bar-Kays,
Au Pairs,
Blancmange,
Juan Atkins,
Ken Boothe,
Gang of Four,
Accadde A,
Los Fastidios,
Niagra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nirvana,
Moebius,
Funky Four + One,
The Last Poets,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Outsiders,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Tommy Roe,
The Electric Prunes,
Anthony Braxton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Andrew Hill,
E-Dancer,
Mary Jane Girls,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Theoretical Girls,
The Names,
Black Bananas,
Jawbox,
Nico,
Urselle,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Wells,
Dave Gahan,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Alton Ellis,
48th St. Collective,
Jacques Brel,
Alison Limerick,
Talk Talk,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minny Pops,
CMW,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.