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 Gambia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Ronnie Foster to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Busters,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Qualms,
The Names,
Prince Buster,
Procol Harum,
Marcia Griffiths,
DNA,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
Mr. Review,
Simply Red,
The Cowsills,
Derrick May,
The Move,
Tomorrow,
Grauzone,
The Blues Magoos,
Outsiders,
Max Romeo,
David McCallum,
Susan Cadogan,
Sugar Minott,
The Fugs,
Drexciya,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Robert Görl,
Smog,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Erasure,
Derrick Morgan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Buckinghams,
Oneida,
Byron Stingily,
Television,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Victims,
X-101,
Alphaville,
One Last Wish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mad Mike,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Fire Engines,
The Neon Judgement,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
These Immortal Souls,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Harpers Bizarre,
Monks,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.