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 Libya and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Glasgow.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fela Kuti to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
The Move,
Peter and Kerry,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
June of 44,
Harmonia,
The Leaves,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ken Boothe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quando Quango,
CMW,
John Holt,
Judy Mowatt,
Desert Stars,
Smog,
Lyres,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camouflage,
Soft Machine,
Lucky Dragons,
Bob Dylan,
The Last Poets,
Bobby Womack,
The Doors,
Vainqueur,
The Buckinghams,
Banda Bassotti,
Harpers Bizarre,
Stetsasonic,
Al Stewart,
Eli Mardock,
The Pretty Things,
The Shadows of Knight,
Q and Not U,
Sonic Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sixth Finger,
The Zeros,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Wings,
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
Accadde A,
Newcleus,
Letta Mbulu,
the Human League,
In Retrospect,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brothers Johnson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reagan Youth,
Scott Walker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.