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 Dominican Republic and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Delon & Dalcan to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiohead record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Jeff Mills,
Maurizio,
Visage,
Metal Thangz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Index,
Brick,
La Düsseldorf,
Absolute Body Control,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Searchers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Charles Mingus,
Severed Heads,
Robert Wyatt,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
Cluster,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
Bob Dylan,
Amon Düül,
New Age Steppers,
One Last Wish,
Ultravox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ossler,
Arthur Verocai,
the Human League,
James White and The Blacks,
Gong,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Radio Birdman,
Procol Harum,
Hardrive,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jacques Brel,
The Birthday Party,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sister Nancy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Pop Group,
Unwound,
Sparks,
Jeff Lynne,
The Durutti Column,
Tears for Fears,
Bang On A Can,
MDC,
Outsiders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Circle Jerks,
Alphaville,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.