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 Chile and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 Gang of Four to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The American Breed,
Sunsets and Hearts,
FM Einheit,
Joy Division,
Sister Nancy,
Harmonia,
La Düsseldorf,
Fear,
Japan,
The United States of America,
Yellowson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Warren Ellis,
The Blues Magoos,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ten City,
Los Fastidios,
10cc,
Scott Walker,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fad Gadget,
Donald Byrd,
Mo-Dettes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Zero Boys,
Roxette,
Second Layer,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Al Stewart,
June Days,
Whodini,
Althea and Donna,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Beau Brummels,
PIL,
Deakin,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Human League,
The Slits,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Toasters,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Dirtbombs,
Fat Boys,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brass Construction,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harry Pussy,
the Association,
Crime,
The Kinks,
Bobby Womack,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fire Engines,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.