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 Russia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Nils Olav to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
One Last Wish,
Joyce Sims,
Steve Hackett,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The United States of America,
AZ,
Banda Bassotti,
Scrapy,
Grey Daturas,
Judy Mowatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Q65,
Erasure,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
June of 44,
The Grass Roots,
Drive Like Jehu,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Index,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Guru Guru,
The Gun Club,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tommy Roe,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Das Ding,
Pere Ubu,
Babytalk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Section 25,
Brick,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Barracudas,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
Todd Rundgren,
Model 500,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ronnie Foster,
Bluetip,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Mad Mike,
Sister Nancy,
Nico,
Half Japanese,
The Mojo Men,
Hardrive,
Crooked Eye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Livin' Joy,
Dead Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Lightning Bolt,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.