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 the UAE and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes 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 Goldenarms to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marmalade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
This Heat,
Tubeway Army,
Soft Machine,
Ludus,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
Rod Modell,
T. Rex,
Los Fastidios,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rosa Yemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Con Funk Shun,
The Five Americans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Absolute Body Control,
The Motions,
Quando Quango,
The Real Kids,
Hashim,
Camouflage,
Scratch Acid,
Rotary Connection,
Kurtis Blow,
Max Romeo,
Leonard Cohen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alton Ellis,
Bush Tetras,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Moleskins,
Young Marble Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Grauzone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlback,
H. Thieme,
OOIOO,
Index,
Fluxion,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Young Rascals,
K-Klass,
Ohio Players,
David Axelrod,
The Zeros,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jerry's Kids,
The Pretty Things,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.