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 Solomon Islands and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 snare 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 Yusef Lateef to the electroclash 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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Flash Fearless,
The Gories,
Dorothy Ashby,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Arcadia,
Japan,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers,
Sparks,
Marvin Gaye,
One Last Wish,
Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Alice Coltrane,
Interpol,
Moss Icon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Niagra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Deepchord,
PIL,
Leonard Cohen,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Starr,
Tom Boy,
Flipper,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Bootsy Collins,
The Busters,
The Pretty Things,
the Fania All-Stars,
Danielle Patucci,
Mr. Review,
Trumans Water,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Offenders,
John Coltrane,
a-ha,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronnie Foster,
The Blues Magoos,
New York Dolls,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thee Headcoats,
Talk Talk,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
Donald Byrd,
Infiniti,
Minor Threat,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.