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 Tonga and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minnie Riperton to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Joyce Sims,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Loose Ends,
Yellowson,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Eli Mardock,
Pagans,
the Sonics,
Blake Baxter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Niagra,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
Graham Central Station,
Roxette,
Negative Approach,
Television,
The Seeds,
Parry Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Electric Prunes,
the Association,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
The Velvet Underground,
The Move,
Harmonia,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Osbourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Technova,
Wire,
The Wake,
Marine Girls,
Little Man,
Q65,
Public Enemy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swell Maps,
Sällskapet,
Sparks,
The American Breed,
Jeff Lynne,
Sam Rivers,
Janne Schatter,
Chrome,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
John Foxx,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.