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 Armenia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Gladiators to the rock 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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Rundgren,
Main Source,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Tubeway Army,
DJ Sneak,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Sam Rivers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
Unwound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
T. Rex,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ohio Players,
Tim Buckley,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Crime,
The Moody Blues,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Electric Prunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Subhumans,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Raincoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Cramps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pylon,
These Immortal Souls,
Ten City,
Black Pus,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Piero Umiliani,
Babytalk,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Clarke,
Danielle Patucci,
Eddi Front,
Eric Copeland,
Radio Birdman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Das Ding,
The Pretty Things,
The Five Americans,
The New Christs,
Schoolly D,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.