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 Seychelles and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Selecter to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Neon Judgement,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Maurizio,
The Mojo Men,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
Theoretical Girls,
Silicon Teens,
Throbbing Gristle,
DJ Sneak,
Trumans Water,
Mark Hollis,
Minny Pops,
Nas,
Anakelly,
Visage,
Roger Hodgson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fat Boys,
Marmalade,
Agent Orange,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Robert Görl,
Moby Grape,
Lalann,
Goldenarms,
Con Funk Shun,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
the Normal,
The Martian,
Robert Wyatt,
The Residents,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Iggy Pop,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
Youth Brigade,
Faust,
Quantec,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Judy Mowatt,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Wasted Youth,
Black Bananas,
Pulsallama,
Talk Talk,
Unrelated Segments,
Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crash Course in Science,
The Motions,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.