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 Rwanda and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 organ 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 Arthur Verocai to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
LL Cool J,
Juan Atkins,
Harry Pussy,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yellowson,
Model 500,
The Evens,
Deepchord,
Q and Not U,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Angry Samoans,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Massinfluence,
Lou Christie,
Echospace,
Bobby Womack,
New Age Steppers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharoah Sanders,
Glambeats Corp.,
China Crisis,
ABBA,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
Harmonia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kas Product,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Martian,
The Fugs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bang On A Can,
Ice-T,
The Barracudas,
The Toasters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Altered Images,
The Smoke,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eden Ahbez,
Deakin,
Mo-Dettes,
The Associates,
Can,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Mandrill,
Goldenarms,
Camouflage,
Crash Course in Science,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Nas,
The Blues Magoos,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.