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 Mauritania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar 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 X-Ray Spex to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maurizio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Quadrant,
Minnie Riperton,
Banda Bassotti,
The Toasters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Harry Pussy,
The Grass Roots,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
kango's stein massive,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
The Slackers,
Rekid,
Lou Christie,
Inner City,
The Angels of Light,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
The Durutti Column,
Oblivians,
The Blues Magoos,
Metal Thangz,
Khruangbin,
Kerri Chandler,
Anakelly,
Tomorrow,
The Cramps,
Popol Vuh,
Joy Division,
Severed Heads,
Ken Boothe,
Newcleus,
Q65,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fortunes,
World's Most,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pretty Things,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
Connie Case,
Hot Snakes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Stiv Bators,
DNA,
Jerry's Kids,
EPMD,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funky Four + One,
The Standells,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.