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 Ivory Coast and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Residents. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Dirtbombs,
Letta Mbulu,
Guru Guru,
Cluster,
D'Angelo,
Wings,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fad Gadget,
The Cramps,
Shuggie Otis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Aswad,
Nico,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
UT,
Fear,
Pole,
Porter Ricks,
Marvin Gaye,
Yellowson,
Rosa Yemen,
Suicide,
Shoche,
Peter & Gordon,
Flipper,
Anakelly,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Section 25,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dawn Penn,
Royal Trux,
Brothers Johnson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ice-T,
Black Bananas,
China Crisis,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Newcleus,
Roxy Music,
June of 44,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Ohio Players,
Roxette,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
Terry Callier,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
ABC,
Lyres,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Jerry's Kids,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.