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 Tonga and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dead Boys to the disco 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Deepchord,
Dennis Brown,
Bad Manners,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Bar-Kays,
Rakim,
Yellowson,
Altered Images,
Dawn Penn,
The Beau Brummels,
Mandrill,
Erykah Badu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
Morten Harket,
Chrome,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Stooges,
Newcleus,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oneida,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Leonard Cohen,
The Raincoats,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Jeff Mills,
Gong,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
Whodini,
Nik Kershaw,
Robert Hood,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalann,
Public Enemy,
Metal Thangz,
The Victims,
Camouflage,
Lindisfarne,
Sparks,
Q65,
Make Up,
Skarface,
Das Ding,
The Smoke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hasil Adkins,
The Walker Brothers,
Jandek,
Colin Newman,
The Index,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Banda Bassotti,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.