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 Namibia and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 John Lydon to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Bobby Sherman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sonic Youth,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Skatalites,
B.T. Express,
Loose Ends,
Barrington Levy,
Peter & Gordon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter,
Sex Pistols,
The Cure,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
the Slits,
Max Romeo,
Thompson Twins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Trumans Water,
Bang On A Can,
Aswad,
Motorama,
Easy Going,
The Standells,
Gang Starr,
Faust,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doors,
Chris & Cosey,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
Wings,
Slave,
Porter Ricks,
Todd Rundgren,
Siglo XX,
F. McDonald,
Pulsallama,
The Invisible,
Average White Band,
CMW,
X-101,
Jandek,
Jacob Miller,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Normal,
Roxy Music,
Cluster,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Dual Sessions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hoover,
Rekid,
The Offenders,
MDC,
Gang Green,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.