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 Mali and from Manchester.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Nile Rodgers 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 American Breed to the jazz 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Sun City Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
Deakin,
Erasure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Average White Band,
Khruangbin,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skarface,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Minutemen,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Sherman,
Desert Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Second Layer,
The Fugs,
Janne Schatter,
Simply Red,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
New Age Steppers,
Audionom,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delta 5,
Grandmaster Flash,
FM Einheit,
John Holt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Popol Vuh,
Mars,
Youth Brigade,
Don Cherry,
Patti Smith,
Rekid,
Flash Fearless,
Los Fastidios,
Panda Bear,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
Brothers Johnson,
Godley & Creme,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brick,
The Cowsills,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.