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 South Africa and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Lou Christie to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Hill,
Camouflage,
Funkadelic,
Susan Cadogan,
X-Ray Spex,
Amazonics,
Angry Samoans,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Lynne,
Ludus,
Kurtis Blow,
ABBA,
Bobby Womack,
Sound Behaviour,
Brass Construction,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minor Threat,
Mark Hollis,
Scientists,
Metal Thangz,
Judy Mowatt,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scratch Acid,
Howard Jones,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Dead Boys,
Bang On A Can,
AZ,
Arcadia,
Barbara Tucker,
Radiohead,
Eric Dolphy,
Lucky Dragons,
Rakim,
The Pop Group,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Surgeon,
Silicon Teens,
Robert Görl,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-101,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Tom Boy,
Siglo XX,
Theoretical Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
La Düsseldorf,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.