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 Tuvalu and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Silicon Teens to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neu!,
Black Pus,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Sneak,
Infiniti,
Avey Tare,
Rosa Yemen,
Little Man,
the Bar-Kays,
Half Japanese,
The Fugs,
Alton Ellis,
Yellowson,
Deepchord,
Heaven 17,
PIL,
Derrick Morgan,
Wings,
Harpers Bizarre,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Model 500,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dave Gahan,
A Certain Ratio,
Rites of Spring,
Ultravox,
Roy Ayers,
Roxette,
Skaos,
Skarface,
Schoolly D,
The Monochrome Set,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül,
Rotary Connection,
kango's stein massive,
The Monks,
X-101,
Barrington Levy,
Agent Orange,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Supertramp,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bluetip,
Pantaleimon,
Nik Kershaw,
X-102,
Brass Construction,
Althea and Donna,
Janne Schatter,
The Gun Club,
Shuggie Otis,
Malaria!,
Carl Craig,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.