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 Comoros and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
The Smoke,
New Order,
Aural Exciters,
Los Fastidios,
Lalo Schifrin,
John Lydon,
cv313,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Pus,
Scratch Acid,
Maleditus Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stiv Bators,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tom Boy,
D'Angelo,
Trumans Water,
The Remains,
Sonny Sharrock,
Roxette,
Deadbeat,
Marvin Gaye,
James White and The Blacks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
Bob Dylan,
Icehouse,
Altered Images,
DJ Sneak,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
Funkadelic,
The Cure,
Goldenarms,
AZ,
Rufus Thomas,
One Last Wish,
Tim Buckley,
Barrington Levy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
Blossom Toes,
Flipper,
The Divine Comedy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Standells,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Q and Not U,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-Ray Spex,
Boredoms,
Livin' Joy,
48th St. Collective,
The Evens,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.