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 Lesotho and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Be Bop Deluxe to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Flash Fearless,
Blancmange,
The Kinks,
Robert Görl,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Chrome,
Deadbeat,
Tears for Fears,
Das Ding,
Harry Pussy,
Cal Tjader,
Terrestrial Tones,
CMW,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
The Blackbyrds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eve St. Jones,
Nico,
Visage,
The Fall,
Patti Smith,
Aswad,
Qualms,
Y Pants,
Icehouse,
Traffic Nightmare,
Isaac Hayes,
T.S.O.L.,
Neil Young,
Connie Case,
Crooked Eye,
Darondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
kango's stein massive,
The Residents,
The Monks,
Robert Wyatt,
Piero Umiliani,
MDC,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Sonics,
Howard Jones,
Stereo Dub,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marshall Jefferson,
These Immortal Souls,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.