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 Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 a-ha to the electroclash 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Move,
Bronski Beat,
Roger Hodgson,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rekid,
Junior Murvin,
Mission of Burma,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Niagra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Susan Cadogan,
The Monks,
Gang Starr,
Roxette,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker,
Goldenarms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
Lindisfarne,
Skriet,
Flipper,
Index,
Tommy Roe,
Yaz,
Mantronix,
Mr. Review,
Sixth Finger,
The Motions,
Minor Threat,
Brass Construction,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
Colin Newman,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nas,
The J.B.'s,
Todd Terry,
Depeche Mode,
The Offenders,
Gong,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blues Magoos,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
Matthew Halsall,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zero Boys,
Franke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division,
Skarface,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.