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 Chad and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Darondo to the crunk 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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Moss Icon,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Flag,
The Moody Blues,
the Soft Cell,
Henry Cow,
Babytalk,
Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Tommy Roe,
The Techniques,
Shoche,
The Selecter,
Black Sheep,
Liliput,
Sandy B,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacques Brel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Country Teasers,
Charles Mingus,
Man Parrish,
Dave Gahan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sällskapet,
The American Breed,
Average White Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Fad Gadget,
Kool Moe Dee,
H. Thieme,
Pantytec,
Althea and Donna,
Agent Orange,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Q and Not U,
EPMD,
The Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
Newcleus,
Cybotron,
Fat Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Depeche Mode,
Gerry Rafferty,
Archie Shepp,
The Beau Brummels,
Wasted Youth,
Bluetip,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Tremeloes,
Swans,
Wings,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Black Moon,
Funkadelic,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.