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 Iran and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Mary Jane Girls to the crunk 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Faraquet,
The Martian,
Gang Green,
Kenny Larkin,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
PIL,
The Fortunes,
Charles Mingus,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Moon,
Bootsy Collins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Faust,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang On A Can,
Brand Nubian,
Metal Thangz,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Absolute Body Control,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
MDC,
Brick,
Derrick May,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Saints,
Byron Stingily,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DNA,
Crispy Ambulance,
Deakin,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Shadows of Knight,
Make Up,
The Human League,
Kas Product,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates,
Television,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Sound,
Neil Young,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Bananas,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Names,
Arcadia,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.