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 Mauritius and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Electric Light Orchestra to the dance 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Andrew Hill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Sonics,
Oblivians,
Slave,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Saints,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
The Pop Group,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grauzone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Blancmange,
It's A Beautiful Day,
June of 44,
The Zeros,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
New Order,
Ultravox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Sonics,
Kenny Larkin,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lou Reed,
Ultimate Spinach,
FM Einheit,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
Main Source,
The Real Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sandy B,
the Association,
The Residents,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
One Last Wish,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
CMW,
Infiniti,
The Last Poets,
Gerry Rafferty,
Con Funk Shun,
UT,
Alton Ellis,
Masters at Work,
The Cosmic Jokers,
X-Ray Spex,
Barry Ungar,
Yazoo,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Standells,
The Five Americans,
Japan,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Remains,
D'Angelo,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.