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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ 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 Nas to the dance 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Dead Boys,
The Martian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cal Tjader,
In Retrospect,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monks,
Pulsallama,
The Blues Magoos,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Reuben Wilson,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Associates,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roxette,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Moody Blues,
The Dave Clark Five,
CMW,
Babytalk,
Yaz,
La Düsseldorf,
Agent Orange,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yellowson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barbara Tucker,
Sun City Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Sister Nancy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Accadde A,
The Misunderstood,
Anthony Braxton,
Juan Atkins,
The Birthday Party,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Faraquet,
Mission of Burma,
the Bar-Kays,
Marcia Griffiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Hot Snakes,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.