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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Gang of Four to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Q65,
Anakelly,
Godley & Creme,
The Doors,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Rhythm & Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
Darondo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cramps,
Scion,
Amazonics,
Gichy Dan,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Soft Cell,
Pussy Galore,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Sight & Sound,
Harmonia,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Wyatt,
The New Christs,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Electric Prunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Buzzcocks,
Harry Pussy,
Brand Nubian,
Supertramp,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gun Club,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!,
Erykah Badu,
Half Japanese,
Unrelated Segments,
Soft Machine,
Amon Düül,
Panda Bear,
Depeche Mode,
Warsaw,
Monks,
The Neon Judgement,
One Last Wish,
Livin' Joy,
The Cowsills,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Simply Red,
the Human League,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.