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 Iran and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mummies 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Remains,
Supertramp,
Siglo XX,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
Index,
Nils Olav,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stetsasonic,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Peter and Kerry,
D'Angelo,
The Fall,
Sixth Finger,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
The Mummies,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
Big Daddy Kane,
World's Most,
Bobby Byrd,
Sam Rivers,
Al Stewart,
Ralphi Rosario,
Little Man,
Bob Dylan,
Camberwell Now,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Smiths,
Maleditus Sound,
The Wake,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jacques Brel,
In Retrospect,
Fat Boys,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Babytalk,
The Human League,
The Five Americans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
the Fania All-Stars,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brick,
Livin' Joy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.