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 Liechtenstein and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 The Blues Magoos to the grime 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 The Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
Khruangbin,
The American Breed,
Sarah Menescal,
Carl Craig,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Trojans,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Cluster,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
Eli Mardock,
Delta 5,
the Germs,
Laurel Aitken,
Hot Snakes,
Lalann,
FM Einheit,
Josef K,
The Evens,
Surgeon,
Animal Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barry Ungar,
The Names,
John Foxx,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slave,
Main Source,
X-101,
Qualms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The New Christs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Magazine,
Infiniti,
Nico,
June of 44,
Alton Ellis,
Organ,
The Gap Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Japan,
Average White Band,
The Durutti Column,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Sherman,
Television Personalities,
Mark Hollis,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound, Sight & Sound.
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.