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 Indonesia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Junior Murvin to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Ituana,
Japan,
The Divine Comedy,
John Lydon,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Cell,
Leonard Cohen,
Talk Talk,
Moby Grape,
Johnny Clarke,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu,
Rod Modell,
Eddi Front,
the Normal,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
The Fuzztones,
Eurythmics,
Fugazi,
John Cale,
Popol Vuh,
Robert Hood,
Aural Exciters,
Television,
Minutemen,
Lyres,
The Wake,
Tim Buckley,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
Cymande,
EPMD,
Big Daddy Kane,
the Sonics,
The Kinks,
New Order,
X-Ray Spex,
Roger Hodgson,
The Offenders,
Desert Stars,
Ultra Naté,
The Blackbyrds,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gerry Rafferty,
Andrew Hill,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mandrill,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rites of Spring,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip,
Heaven 17,
Inner City,
Scion,
Don Cherry,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.