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 Brunei and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the güiro 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 Average White Band to the dance 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Connie Case,
The Birthday Party,
Ossler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Reuben Wilson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Letta Mbulu,
Lakeside,
The Buckinghams,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roxy Music,
Deepchord,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nico,
Young Marble Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Motions,
F. McDonald,
Khruangbin,
R.M.O.,
Man Parrish,
Metal Thangz,
Carl Craig,
Arcadia,
Pantaleimon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Near,
Alphaville,
Ultra Naté,
Archie Shepp,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nirvana,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arthur Verocai,
Minor Threat,
Aswad,
The Grass Roots,
Q and Not U,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
AZ,
Massinfluence,
Toni Rubio,
June Days,
The Sound,
Cybotron,
Fear,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Laurel Aitken,
New York Dolls,
Technova,
Dark Day,
Patti Smith,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.