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 Guinea-Bissau and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Maurizio to the disco 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Swans,
The Gun Club,
Donny Hathaway,
Buzzcocks,
Accadde A,
Ludus,
Jacques Brel,
Sandy B,
Fela Kuti,
B.T. Express,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalo Schifrin,
kango's stein massive,
Matthew Halsall,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Last Poets,
Boogie Down Productions,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Trojans,
Tubeway Army,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Velvet Underground,
Deepchord,
Marine Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
Erykah Badu,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
Mission of Burma,
Rufus Thomas,
June of 44,
Stiv Bators,
The New Christs,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
Con Funk Shun,
Desert Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quando Quango,
Rod Modell,
Sixth Finger,
KRS-One,
The Grass Roots,
Al Stewart,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fugs,
Yazoo,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
The Kinks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.