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 Croatia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Laurel Aitken to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oneida,
the Slits,
Amazonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Underground Resistance,
Brothers Johnson,
Youth Brigade,
The Tremeloes,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Wire,
These Immortal Souls,
Electric Prunes,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare,
Sällskapet,
Radio Birdman,
Outsiders,
Donny Hathaway,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
Au Pairs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hardrive,
Byron Stingily,
Black Bananas,
The Black Dice,
Jacob Miller,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Moleskins,
Tom Boy,
Absolute Body Control,
Rufus Thomas,
Depeche Mode,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Five Americans,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
The Names,
Marc Almond,
Simply Red,
DJ Sneak,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jawbox,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Surgeon,
The Fuzztones,
Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef, Yusef Lateef.
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.