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 Palau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cymande to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Tres Demented,
X-101,
UT,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Görl,
Alice Coltrane,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Sister Nancy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fugazi,
Lou Christie,
Mantronix,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marmalade,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
The Durutti Column,
Joensuu 1685,
Roy Ayers,
Shuggie Otis,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Womack,
Sexual Harrassment,
Whodini,
Symarip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cure,
Carl Craig,
Boredoms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Altered Images,
Absolute Body Control,
Eddi Front,
Minny Pops,
Country Teasers,
Tommy Roe,
Susan Cadogan,
The Five Americans,
Scion,
Lyres,
Lungfish,
Faraquet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gregory Isaacs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
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.