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 Moldova and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Pretty Things to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Near,
Barrington Levy,
Black Sheep,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
Skriet,
Von Mondo,
Moebius,
K-Klass,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Letta Mbulu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Index,
Guru Guru,
Howard Jones,
The Fugs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Young Rascals,
KRS-One,
The Mighty Diamonds,
June of 44,
Popol Vuh,
Whodini,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rekid,
Warren Ellis,
The Red Krayola,
Joy Division,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bush Tetras,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Slave,
The Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Soulsonic Force,
Maurizio,
Reuben Wilson,
Zapp,
Panda Bear,
DJ Sneak,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Godley & Creme,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skaos,
Magazine,
The Star Department,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Searchers,
Royal Trux,
Banda Bassotti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yusef Lateef,
David Bowie,
Terry Callier,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.