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 Vietnam and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Marcia Griffiths to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Urselle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Doors,
Wally Richardson,
Skaos,
Dark Day,
Adolescents,
Livin' Joy,
Skriet,
Massinfluence,
Marc Almond,
Yazoo,
Neu!,
Scott Walker,
Magazine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Monks,
Cymande,
Blake Baxter,
Motorama,
Fela Kuti,
Can,
Aswad,
Pantytec,
Soul II Soul,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soulsonic Force,
Gastr Del Sol,
Don Cherry,
The Beau Brummels,
June of 44,
kango's stein massive,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Von Mondo,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Shoche,
Infiniti,
Letta Mbulu,
Drexciya,
Bill Wells,
MDC,
The Gladiators,
New Order,
Japan,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Cybotron,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Happenings,
The Knickerbockers,
Ituana,
Roxette,
DJ Sneak,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.