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 Bahrain and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Pierre Henry to the rock 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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Royal Trux,
Jeff Mills,
The Shadows of Knight,
Patti Smith,
Ornette Coleman,
Yaz,
John Lydon,
Mandrill,
Fatback Band,
The Offenders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Iggy Pop,
Scion,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-Ray Spex,
The Young Rascals,
Ralphi Rosario,
X-101,
Kerri Chandler,
Gregory Isaacs,
Max Romeo,
Unrelated Segments,
Maurizio,
Junior Murvin,
The Black Dice,
The Gories,
DJ Style,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Magazine,
The Cramps,
The Golliwogs,
Television Personalities,
The Cure,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Grass Roots,
Lightning Bolt,
Roxy Music,
Stiv Bators,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Beau Brummels,
T.S.O.L.,
Sugar Minott,
Second Layer,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
Neil Young,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Buckinghams,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
the Germs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boogie Down Productions,
Schoolly D,
Faust,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.