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 Mozambique and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Procol Harum to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Visage,
The Walker Brothers,
Prince Buster,
Reagan Youth,
Alphaville,
PIL,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Urselle,
Maurizio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Ken Boothe,
Heaven 17,
Kaleidoscope,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Altered Images,
Babytalk,
Shuggie Otis,
Pantaleimon,
Janne Schatter,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gun Club,
Ituana,
The Blackbyrds,
Quando Quango,
The Cowsills,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Soft Cell,
Carl Craig,
Schoolly D,
Main Source,
Bill Wells,
Soul II Soul,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra,
Lou Christie,
Von Mondo,
Stereo Dub,
K-Klass,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soft Machine,
Magazine,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
D'Angelo,
Procol Harum,
Nation of Ulysses,
Althea and Donna,
Arab on Radar,
The Tremeloes,
Hashim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Vainqueur,
Stetsasonic,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.