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 Costa Rica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord 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 Underground Resistance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Neil Young,
The Human League,
Wolf Eyes,
Yazoo,
The Martian,
CMW,
The Alarm Clocks,
Altered Images,
Silicon Teens,
Urselle,
K-Klass,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nils Olav,
Index,
The Standells,
Lou Christie,
John Coltrane,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Franke,
New York Dolls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minutemen,
Liliput,
Lalann,
Soul II Soul,
Yellowson,
Quando Quango,
These Immortal Souls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Grass Roots,
Swans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
Slave,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Crooked Eye,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
The Gladiators,
Duran Duran,
Blancmange,
The Litter,
Ultra Naté,
Archie Shepp,
The Modern Lovers,
Ponytail,
The Doors,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Ituana,
Barrington Levy,
the Soft Cell,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.