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 East Timor and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gun Club,
Boz Scaggs,
Ralphi Rosario,
AZ,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Radio Birdman,
The Human League,
Angry Samoans,
Groovy Waters,
ABBA,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amon Düül,
Howard Jones,
Nils Olav,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
Bad Manners,
Darondo,
John Foxx,
Black Sheep,
Thompson Twins,
Letta Mbulu,
Sun City Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tropical Tobacco,
New York Dolls,
Echospace,
Freddie Wadling,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blues Magoos,
Suburban Knight,
Bob Dylan,
Loose Ends,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
Q and Not U,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jacob Miller,
Ronnie Foster,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lower 48,
Fad Gadget,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Piero Umiliani,
Scratch Acid,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Whodini,
Yusef Lateef,
Joensuu 1685,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Basic Channel,
John Holt,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.