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 Belize and from Spokane.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Arthur Verocai to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All The Remains tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Faust,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Unrelated Segments,
AZ,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators,
Roxy Music,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lakeside,
Pulsallama,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
Fad Gadget,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Niagra,
EPMD,
Scientists,
DJ Style,
Tim Buckley,
The Human League,
Arthur Verocai,
Mandrill,
Pet Shop Boys,
Model 500,
F. McDonald,
Suburban Knight,
The Fortunes,
Black Sheep,
Nas,
Flash Fearless,
Tom Boy,
Ponytail,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
These Immortal Souls,
Laurel Aitken,
Lucky Dragons,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Guru Guru,
The Misunderstood,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Cure,
The Wake,
Maurizio,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Golliwogs,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.