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 China and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar 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 Los Fastidios to the electroclash 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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
The Vogues,
Bob Dylan,
Cheater Slicks,
Grauzone,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Saccharine Trust,
Maurizio,
Vainqueur,
Lalann,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joyce Sims,
Iggy Pop,
The Saints,
Altered Images,
Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Thee Headcoats,
Rod Modell,
Soft Machine,
Supertramp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fuzztones,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Trojans,
Alphaville,
The Neon Judgement,
Depeche Mode,
The Evens,
Circle Jerks,
Eurythmics,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
Quadrant,
This Heat,
Oneida,
The New Christs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fad Gadget,
Mission of Burma,
Au Pairs,
Urselle,
Lou Christie,
The Barracudas,
D'Angelo,
Mad Mike,
Sällskapet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Curtis Mayfield,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Blackbyrds,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
10cc,
The Golliwogs,
Swell Maps,
Ken Boothe,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.