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 Angola and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 A Certain Ratio to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter & Gordon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Alice Coltrane,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pharoah Sanders,
Excepter,
The Modern Lovers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The New Christs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gichy Dan,
Shoche,
Subhumans,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Holt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pantytec,
Dorothy Ashby,
Q and Not U,
Ornette Coleman,
Dead Boys,
Surgeon,
Bad Manners,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
The Gladiators,
The Misunderstood,
Young Marble Giants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Toasters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Steve Hackett,
Brand Nubian,
The Beau Brummels,
Donny Hathaway,
The Grass Roots,
T. Rex,
B.T. Express,
Tom Boy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Gang of Four,
The Residents,
Judy Mowatt,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
Arcadia,
Scion,
Scan 7,
PIL,
Faust,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
T.S.O.L.,
Sex Pistols,
Black Pus,
The Electric Prunes,
The Neon Judgement,
Q65,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.