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 Romania and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Pet Shop Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Sandy B,
Man Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
Avey Tare,
Gang Green,
The United States of America,
Moss Icon,
Oblivians,
Con Funk Shun,
Soft Cell,
Yazoo,
Babytalk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bluetip,
The Names,
Banda Bassotti,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
Audionom,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
Talk Talk,
Jeru the Damaja,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Crime,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Duran Duran,
Popol Vuh,
Sun City Girls,
The Raincoats,
Sex Pistols,
Bob Dylan,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Severed Heads,
Cameo,
Unrelated Segments,
Trumans Water,
The Fall,
Silicon Teens,
Leonard Cohen,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
New Age Steppers,
Dual Sessions,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
Chris & Cosey,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harmonia,
The Last Poets,
Section 25,
Eve St. Jones,
Patti Smith,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.