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 Chad and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Skatalites to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Isaac Hayes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
China Crisis,
James White and The Blacks,
The Star Department,
Moebius,
Al Stewart,
Blossom Toes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pere Ubu,
Alphaville,
The Knickerbockers,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Last Poets,
The Smoke,
Y Pants,
Cameo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kevin Saunderson,
T. Rex,
Warsaw,
Magazine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Altered Images,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
KRS-One,
Outsiders,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
The Stooges,
Patti Smith,
Desert Stars,
Bush Tetras,
Con Funk Shun,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sight & Sound,
Camouflage,
Traffic Nightmare,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Godley & Creme,
The Residents,
Pantaleimon,
John Lydon,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tommy Roe,
Sandy B,
David Axelrod,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rapeman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
This Heat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Country Teasers,
Cluster,
Delta 5,
Byron Stingily,
Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.