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 Antigua and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eurythmics to the funk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Wire,
Ronan,
Nik Kershaw,
Scott Walker,
Ultravox,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalann,
Flipper,
Procol Harum,
Pagans,
Lucky Dragons,
Tres Demented,
Von Mondo,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
Cluster,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Modern Lovers,
Robert Görl,
Pierre Henry,
The Leaves,
Hardrive,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
Carl Craig,
Goldenarms,
the Normal,
Maurizio,
Japan,
Max Romeo,
The Index,
The Real Kids,
Chrome,
Sugar Minott,
Livin' Joy,
Guru Guru,
New York Dolls,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
ABBA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Davy DMX,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Young Rascals,
L. Decosne,
Y Pants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme, Godley & Creme.
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.