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 Comoros and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Groovy Waters,
Scratch Acid,
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rotary Connection,
Matthew Bourne,
The Victims,
Erykah Badu,
Jeff Mills,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deadbeat,
The Sound,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tomorrow,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
Siglo XX,
Pantaleimon,
Minnie Riperton,
Black Pus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
kango's stein massive,
The Slackers,
The Fuzztones,
Malaria!,
Deepchord,
Rufus Thomas,
Duran Duran,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
the Normal,
Sun Ra,
Jeff Lynne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fela Kuti,
Soft Cell,
Rakim,
The Standells,
EPMD,
Alison Limerick,
Jacques Brel,
Subhumans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ornette Coleman,
Marine Girls,
The Cowsills,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ken Boothe,
Outsiders,
Tim Buckley,
Urselle,
Hashim,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.