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 Honduras and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin 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 R.M.O. to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Smiths,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kayak,
The Gun Club,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fall,
Wire,
Eric Dolphy,
David Axelrod,
Brothers Johnson,
Lindisfarne,
Camouflage,
Monolake,
Rites of Spring,
The Trojans,
The Offenders,
Lakeside,
Gichy Dan,
Cluster,
Charles Mingus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sixth Finger,
Half Japanese,
Warsaw,
The Fire Engines,
Y Pants,
Unwound,
New Order,
Maurizio,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Bar-Kays,
Yaz,
Supertramp,
Radio Birdman,
Goldenarms,
Reagan Youth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mad Mike,
Ice-T,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Public Image Ltd.,
Anthony Braxton,
Underground Resistance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jawbox,
The Human League,
Archie Shepp,
Royal Trux,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.