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 Lebanon and from Calgary.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Juan Atkins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moby Grape,
Harpers Bizarre,
MDC,
Bobby Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Byron Stingily,
The Gladiators,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Slackers,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultimate Spinach,
Desert Stars,
Camouflage,
Ornette Coleman,
Alison Limerick,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
the Normal,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Soft Cell,
Aloha Tigers,
X-102,
Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Rotary Connection,
Crispian St. Peters,
Hoover,
Al Stewart,
The Kinks,
The Zeros,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joe Finger,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
Godley & Creme,
Patti Smith,
DJ Style,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nik Kershaw,
The Move,
Liliput,
Loose Ends,
The Martian,
Carl Craig,
Avey Tare,
Aswad,
Cheater Slicks,
Wings,
Radiohead,
Archie Shepp,
Delta 5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Young Marble Giants,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.