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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Unrelated Segments to the crunk 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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Moby Grape,
Swell Maps,
The Remains,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Funkadelic,
New York Dolls,
Soft Machine,
The J.B.'s,
Pulsallama,
Minor Threat,
The Birthday Party,
Crime,
Bauhaus,
Urselle,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Boogie Down Productions,
Saccharine Trust,
The Red Krayola,
Intrusion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Basic Channel,
Soulsonic Force,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Christie,
T.S.O.L.,
48th St. Collective,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalann,
Joensuu 1685,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tres Demented,
The Pop Group,
Adolescents,
The Raincoats,
MDC,
Parry Music,
Scientists,
Bobby Sherman,
Aswad,
The Electric Prunes,
The Five Americans,
Amazonics,
The Happenings,
Yellowson,
Desert Stars,
Todd Terry,
Lower 48,
Second Layer,
The Fortunes,
Maleditus Sound,
Archie Shepp,
Altered Images,
In Retrospect,
Wings,
Lindisfarne,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.