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 Burkina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Vainqueur to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barry Ungar,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
Steve Hackett,
Black Sheep,
The Zeros,
June Days,
Ohio Players,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Flipper,
Tomorrow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deakin,
Sound Behaviour,
Angry Samoans,
Warren Ellis,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grauzone,
Gang Gang Dance,
Model 500,
X-Ray Spex,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lucky Dragons,
Todd Rundgren,
Andrew Hill,
Simply Red,
Black Flag,
Young Marble Giants,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stiv Bators,
Nick Fraelich,
Minor Threat,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Bang On A Can,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Germs,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Tom Boy,
Joyce Sims,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dennis Brown,
Livin' Joy,
Trumans Water,
Absolute Body Control,
The Pop Group,
Tim Buckley,
Cymande,
One Last Wish,
Soft Machine,
Thompson Twins,
The Smiths,
This Heat,
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.