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 India and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 D'Angelo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Eli Mardock,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Evens,
Jeru the Damaja,
Visage,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tropical Tobacco,
kango's stein massive,
X-102,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül,
Malaria!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
Flipper,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oneida,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
The Sonics,
The Victims,
Dual Sessions,
Deepchord,
Archie Shepp,
Audionom,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
Sparks,
Carl Craig,
Outsiders,
Bauhaus,
Janne Schatter,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Zero Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Human League,
Roxette,
The Saints,
Fatback Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eurythmics,
Moebius,
T.S.O.L.,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.