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 St Lucia and from Paris.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nik Kershaw to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Vladislav Delay,
Eve St. Jones,
kango's stein massive,
Mad Mike,
Gang Green,
Q and Not U,
Cybotron,
Shoche,
Ohio Players,
The Misunderstood,
Rotary Connection,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Electric Prunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Harry Pussy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Popol Vuh,
The Star Department,
Bluetip,
Pagans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Sheep,
Kerri Chandler,
Sex Pistols,
Traffic Nightmare,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lou Christie,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Au Pairs,
Cheater Slicks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eric Dolphy,
Jacob Miller,
Soul II Soul,
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
Mantronix,
Scratch Acid,
The Skatalites,
Brand Nubian,
The Cramps,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Black Moon,
Little Man,
Sun City Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Organ,
David McCallum,
The Saints,
Matthew Halsall,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Slackers,
X-101,
Smog,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.