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 South Africa and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Monks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eve St. Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
The New Christs,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
The Cramps,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Lynne,
Easy Going,
Matthew Bourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
OOIOO,
PIL,
The Index,
Q and Not U,
Livin' Joy,
The Moody Blues,
Charles Mingus,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Junior Murvin,
In Retrospect,
Sugar Minott,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Deadbeat,
B.T. Express,
Babytalk,
Lucky Dragons,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bronski Beat,
World's Most,
Make Up,
The Vogues,
Stereo Dub,
Hasil Adkins,
D'Angelo,
The Velvet Underground,
Deepchord,
Porter Ricks,
Silicon Teens,
Tubeway Army,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
Fluxion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Yusef Lateef,
Harpers Bizarre,
Josef K,
cv313,
The Doors,
Trumans Water,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
The Raincoats,
Alison Limerick,
Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.