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 Panama and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 La Düsseldorf to the punk 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grauzone,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
The Pretty Things,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Roxy Music,
Hardrive,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
The Slits,
Darondo,
Graham Central Station,
Banda Bassotti,
Glenn Branca,
Model 500,
Chrome,
The New Christs,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bizarre Inc.,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sound Behaviour,
Visage,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radiohead,
a-ha,
Johnny Clarke,
Arab on Radar,
Malaria!,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Organ,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terry Callier,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Donald Byrd,
Magma,
Procol Harum,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Tremeloes,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
Laurel Aitken,
Letta Mbulu,
The Cowsills,
Soft Machine,
Section 25,
Electric Prunes,
David McCallum,
the Human League,
Parry Music,
R.M.O.,
Underground Resistance,
Cheater Slicks,
The Modern Lovers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.