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 Rwanda and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Young Rascals to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Procol Harum,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blues Magoos,
Ice-T,
Nick Fraelich,
Khruangbin,
The Count Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
JFA,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
David Bowie,
the Slits,
Dorothy Ashby,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Marshall Jefferson,
Matthew Bourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Susan Cadogan,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cramps,
Agitation Free,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ken Boothe,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Andrew Hill,
Spandau Ballet,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
The Dave Clark Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eve St. Jones,
Arab on Radar,
Grey Daturas,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cure,
Aaron Thompson,
Television,
Slave,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
The J.B.'s,
Groovy Waters,
Sun Ra,
The Saints,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-101,
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.