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 United Kingdom and from Stockholm.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Mo-Dettes to the rap 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arthur Verocai,
These Immortal Souls,
Technova,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Bar-Kays,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fall,
Pere Ubu,
Unrelated Segments,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sex Pistols,
Ituana,
Black Moon,
Tubeway Army,
Sonic Youth,
Maurizio,
Ludus,
Simply Red,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Television,
Theoretical Girls,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bob Dylan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bush Tetras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Alice Coltrane,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Depeche Mode,
Rites of Spring,
Ultravox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Associates,
Jeff Lynne,
John Foxx,
Lalann,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
Man Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
Mission of Burma,
The Victims,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang of Four,
Eric Copeland,
The Evens,
Cymande,
Brick,
Warsaw,
The Young Rascals,
Radio Birdman,
Faraquet,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Offenders,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.