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 Cape Verde and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Gang Starr,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Buzzcocks,
Dave Gahan,
Ken Boothe,
The Smiths,
Andrew Hill,
Skaos,
Tears for Fears,
The New Christs,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
The Modern Lovers,
Ronan,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cure,
Black Pus,
Funky Four + One,
Lucky Dragons,
The Techniques,
Todd Rundgren,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Five Americans,
Fluxion,
Babytalk,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
Don Cherry,
the Bar-Kays,
Goldenarms,
Sun City Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
E-Dancer,
The Names,
Scratch Acid,
FM Einheit,
The Slits,
Sex Pistols,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Bananas,
DNA,
Aswad,
Warren Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
Barrington Levy,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
Metal Thangz,
Oblivians,
Eric Copeland,
The Offenders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Vainqueur,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Donny Hathaway,
Johnny Osbourne,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.