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 Madagascar and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Real Kids to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
The Busters,
The Five Americans,
The Litter,
China Crisis,
The Gladiators,
Outsiders,
Grauzone,
Eden Ahbez,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
Tres Demented,
Graham Central Station,
The Walker Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
AZ,
Dave Gahan,
Bobby Sherman,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Panda Bear,
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
The Black Dice,
Nirvana,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Quantec,
Eurythmics,
Minny Pops,
Sun Ra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Shoche,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flipper,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Charles Mingus,
Zero Boys,
Parry Music,
The Durutti Column,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fall,
Pharoah Sanders,
The J.B.'s,
La Düsseldorf,
The Shadows of Knight,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Japan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Whodini,
Pantytec,
Spandau Ballet,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David Bowie,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Josef K,
Tim Buckley,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.