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 Montenegro and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Michael McDonald 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 Neil Young to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
The Mojo Men,
Altered Images,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultravox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Juan Atkins,
Howard Jones,
Scratch Acid,
Cluster,
Suburban Knight,
Roxette,
Nik Kershaw,
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
Crime,
Grey Daturas,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Machine,
Ronan,
Slick Rick,
Metal Thangz,
Newcleus,
Derrick May,
The Last Poets,
The Five Americans,
Oneida,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Television Personalities,
The Buckinghams,
Ken Boothe,
The Fire Engines,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tom Boy,
The Monochrome Set,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bill Wells,
Lyres,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
T.S.O.L.,
The Red Krayola,
Marvin Gaye,
Au Pairs,
Amon Düül,
Mark Hollis,
R.M.O.,
Amazonics,
The Motions,
The Real Kids,
The Dave Clark Five,
David McCallum,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dawn Penn,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.