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 Barbados and from Mexico City.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare 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 The Flesh Eaters to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Man Parrish,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
The Fuzztones,
Intrusion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Main Source,
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
Amon Düül,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
Sugar Minott,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scientists,
The Smiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gabor Szabo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cowsills,
the Germs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultravox,
Malaria!,
Nick Fraelich,
X-101,
Moebius,
Das Ding,
Trumans Water,
Grey Daturas,
Soft Cell,
Terrestrial Tones,
Desert Stars,
Sparks,
Chris Corsano,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June of 44,
The Smoke,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Marc Almond,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minny Pops,
Smog,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Hill,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ice-T,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cybotron,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mission of Burma,
Warren Ellis,
The Offenders,
Cecil Taylor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Yaz,
Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance, Underground Resistance.
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.