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 Cuba and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Fall to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Amon Düül,
Lee Hazlewood,
Symarip,
Connie Case,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Dual Sessions,
Suburban Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hashim,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mr. Review,
Unwound,
The Misunderstood,
The Index,
Fugazi,
Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Young Rascals,
Morten Harket,
Anakelly,
Rufus Thomas,
Qualms,
Yazoo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul II Soul,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
Clear Light,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arab on Radar,
Sonic Youth,
Quando Quango,
Absolute Body Control,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Trojans,
Stetsasonic,
Ken Boothe,
Electric Prunes,
Bang On A Can,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gastr Del Sol,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Adolescents,
Procol Harum,
Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin, Lalo Schifrin.
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.