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 Bahrain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nick Fraelich record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
Sex Pistols,
The Dirtbombs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kerri Chandler,
Jeff Lynne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Easy Going,
Don Cherry,
The Standells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nas,
Crash Course in Science,
Letta Mbulu,
a-ha,
Agent Orange,
PIL,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
CMW,
Crime,
Symarip,
L. Decosne,
The Divine Comedy,
Hardrive,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Residents,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Brick,
Tropical Tobacco,
Electric Prunes,
Camberwell Now,
Blossom Toes,
The Moleskins,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Kerrie Biddell,
H. Thieme,
Rod Modell,
Theoretical Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cluster,
Sparks,
Hot Snakes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Altered Images,
Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marc Almond,
Cheater Slicks,
Maleditus Sound,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Joey Negro,
The Blackbyrds,
Darondo,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.