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 Liberia and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the dance 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeff Lynne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
The Kinks,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
DJ Sneak,
the Swans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Kas Product,
Nick Fraelich,
F. McDonald,
In Retrospect,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Franke,
Television Personalities,
The Trojans,
Stiv Bators,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Maleditus Sound,
Agent Orange,
Talk Talk,
Angry Samoans,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drexciya,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Visage,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Smog,
Subhumans,
Sugar Minott,
The Real Kids,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Soul II Soul,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
Cheater Slicks,
Lalann,
Eddi Front,
The Moleskins,
Pantytec,
Aswad,
Depeche Mode,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
Lungfish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gichy Dan,
Gang Starr,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Freddie Wadling,
Dave Gahan,
Swell Maps,
Absolute Body Control,
Faraquet,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.