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 Brazil and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boz Scaggs to the grime 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dawn Penn,
a-ha,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Alphaville,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Hoover,
Lakeside,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rotary Connection,
John Foxx,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Michelle Simonal,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
The Alarm Clocks,
Connie Case,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
The Doobie Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Delon & Dalcan,
Average White Band,
Ultra Naté,
The Smiths,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
Audionom,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sugar Minott,
Smog,
Joe Finger,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yusef Lateef,
The J.B.'s,
The Vogues,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Flipper,
Nico,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
In Retrospect,
The Gories,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.