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 Ukraine and from Johannesburg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the organ 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 Talk Talk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Holt,
Patti Smith,
Stiv Bators,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Sherman,
Dual Sessions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shoche,
Deakin,
The Flesh Eaters,
D'Angelo,
Sun City Girls,
Skarface,
Kaleidoscope,
Robert Hood,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bad Manners,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Toasters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cymande,
Faraquet,
Barrington Levy,
Jeff Lynne,
Wings,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Anakelly,
Rakim,
The Buckinghams,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Coltrane,
David Axelrod,
The Durutti Column,
Barry Ungar,
X-101,
Ultra Naté,
The New Christs,
Moebius,
The Gories,
Peter & Gordon,
Dead Boys,
The Martian,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Young Marble Giants,
Mad Mike,
One Last Wish,
Piero Umiliani,
Pussy Galore,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
EPMD,
The United States of America,
Wally Richardson,
Connie Case,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.