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 Angola and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Skaos,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deadbeat,
Gregory Isaacs,
Steve Hackett,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Minor Threat,
Boz Scaggs,
Grauzone,
Spandau Ballet,
Pere Ubu,
cv313,
Fat Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Los Fastidios,
Ten City,
Reuben Wilson,
Eden Ahbez,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Graham Central Station,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
X-102,
Moebius,
Gabor Szabo,
Roger Hodgson,
KRS-One,
Althea and Donna,
AZ,
Subhumans,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
Parry Music,
Maurizio,
One Last Wish,
Sandy B,
The Young Rascals,
Heaven 17,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Joyce Sims,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deakin,
Fela Kuti,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter and Kerry,
Fad Gadget,
The Beau Brummels,
The Remains,
Nick Fraelich,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
Von Mondo,
Make Up,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.