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 Bahamas and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dead Boys to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Modern Lovers. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC 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?
Warsaw,
Eve St. Jones,
Cal Tjader,
Soft Machine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
JFA,
New Age Steppers,
The Five Americans,
The Zeros,
Bill Near,
The Saints,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
Severed Heads,
Lightning Bolt,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
Procol Harum,
Laurel Aitken,
Johnny Clarke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronan,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Lynne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
The Misunderstood,
Alphaville,
Khruangbin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
Icehouse,
Harmonia,
Arthur Verocai,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Agitation Free,
Fat Boys,
FM Einheit,
Cluster,
Scientists,
The Cowsills,
Excepter,
James White and The Blacks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Names,
Michelle Simonal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Slits,
Grey Daturas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Christie,
Terry Callier,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
Ronnie Foster,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.