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 Madrid.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Electric Prunes to the techno 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
LL Cool J,
Drexciya,
Crash Course in Science,
The American Breed,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gladiators,
The Toasters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Pagans,
Camouflage,
Underground Resistance,
The Sound,
Faust,
Soulsonic Force,
The Litter,
Sex Pistols,
FM Einheit,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry's Kids,
Au Pairs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soft Cell,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Donny Hathaway,
Adolescents,
The Shadows of Knight,
Yazoo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Don Cherry,
Urselle,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scan 7,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eric Dolphy,
Lindisfarne,
Hasil Adkins,
Dead Boys,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Todd Terry,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter & Gordon,
New Age Steppers,
Symarip,
Mr. Review,
Tom Boy,
Ohio Players,
Amazonics,
Bad Manners,
Funkadelic,
Main Source,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick May,
Mission of Burma,
Heaven 17,
David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie, David Bowie.
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.