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 Yemen and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Halifax.
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 arpeggiator 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 Susan Cadogan to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cabaret Voltaire. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gerry Rafferty record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Black Flag,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
The Five Americans,
Joyce Sims,
Ultra Naté,
Symarip,
Yazoo,
Gang of Four,
Q65,
ABBA,
The Real Kids,
H. Thieme,
The Fugs,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
Amazonics,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Normal,
Godley & Creme,
Crash Course in Science,
Thee Headcoats,
Basic Channel,
The Searchers,
Franke,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
Michelle Simonal,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cecil Taylor,
Hashim,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Faust,
The Sound,
The Cure,
Drexciya,
Cymande,
Rakim,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Monolake,
Bob Dylan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Sällskapet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Barry Ungar,
Yaz,
Marvin Gaye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Arcadia,
Camouflage,
Nas,
Make Up,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Count Five,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.