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 Australia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dead Boys to the punk 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
The Index,
Y Pants,
Iggy Pop,
Yellowson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
Symarip,
Livin' Joy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Velvet Underground,
David Bowie,
Echospace,
Robert Wyatt,
The Slackers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Todd Terry,
Rod Modell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiopuhelimet,
Aaron Thompson,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
Andrew Hill,
Panda Bear,
the Association,
Donny Hathaway,
the Germs,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
The Star Department,
Pagans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sound,
Quando Quango,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Five Americans,
Intrusion,
Lindisfarne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Main Source,
Alice Coltrane,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Leaves,
Suicide,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonny Sharrock,
Theoretical Girls,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The 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.